


Scared

by LizaD



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 101,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizaD/pseuds/LizaD
Summary: Celebrate the past and look toward the future. A birthday had Charlie making great plans. Looking forward he only saw the good and then life threw Charlie a curve ball.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoy this story. It will be a completed work. Reviews welcome. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All original characters from the show Numb3rs belong to their creators. I just borrow them from time to time.

On the first morning of his twenty-eighth year Charlie Eppes received texts from Don, Meghan, David, Colby and his father that basically shared the same joke: that Charlie had better start savoring the last two years of his twenties because the big 3-0 would soon come knocking at his door to claim yet another disbelieving victim. The texts he received from family and friends had left Charlie either smiling or laughing aloud. 

The same, however, could not be said for two texts Charlie received the night of his twenty-eighth year. One came in from an old rival and the other from a young up and coming mathematician. One message warned Charlie that his brain was quickly coming up on its expiration date and the other stated in so many words that Charlie, viewed as one of the world’s most noted mathematician, would soon have to face handing over his title to a decade younger and much more brilliant successor. 

Charlie, out to dinner with his father and brother, quickly deleted the offending messages and pretended for the rest of his meal that a seed of worry had not been planted in his head.

Charlie woke the next morning feeling tired which he wrote off to the toasts his brother and father offered up at his birthday dinner. He showered, shaved, dressed, had breakfast and shared some small talk with his father before heading off to CalSci. Charlie loved teaching. When his brain could no longer produce the awe-inspiring amount of work that continually rattled his rivals; Charlie theorized that he would find the same amount of fulfillment by being the guiding force behind the next generation of acclaimed mathematicians.

As he walked into his campus office; Charlie glanced at the various awards that lined his office walls. He remembered when he had become the youngest recipient of The Salem Prize and then Charlie felt a true sense of sadness over the fact that his days of being eons ahead of the pack would eventually become a thing of the past as he aged. However, mixed in with sadness too was the realization he was getting too old to continue being referred to in entertainment material as a “math rock star.” That realization wounded Charlie. The only title Charlie would ever be more than happy to hand over to a successor was the antiquated title of “boy wonder.” 

Charlie had only recently shared this view with his older brother. A thank you to his brother for dinner was the start of an unexpected and heartfelt conversation that started as they walked to Don’s SUV and ended when they pulled into the driveway of Charlie’s house. 

Don, typically unavailable emotionally, actually opened up to Charlie and told him that the moment he realized that making it to the major leagues was never going to happen felt like a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

His brother even admitted that while he liked the team aspect of the game; Don never really loved baseball the way everyone thought that he did. 

That night, Charlie attempted to give his older brother a longer hug than normal, but Don wiggled out of his grasp, escaped into his SUV, and pulled his ominous looking vehicle out of the driveway. 

Charlie had started up the walkway when he heard the sound of the SUV’s horn. He turned in time to see Don give him a wave as he drove down the tree-lined street. 

Charlie smiled his way back to his front door armed with the knowledge that the wave was his brother’s way of saying, “thanks for listening.” 

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Seated at his desk, in an office far grander and spacious than those occupied by other well-known Calsci professors nearly twice his age; Charlie cautiously sipped from an eco-friendly container that held what to his tingling tongue felt like coffee that had been thermal heated. 

He took stock of the changes that took place over the course of twenty-four months.

Charlie added FBI consultant to his already overcrowded schedule; despite already being the go-to-guy for several other powerful government agencies. However, nothing Charlie accomplished outside of his work at CalSci measured up to the simple joy Charlie felt when he worked with the FBI alongside his brother. It had taken time and they hit a couple of bumps in the road along the way, but Charlie knew that he had formed a solid working relationship with Don (it was their sibling relationship that remained a work in progress). Charlie was often in awe as he stood back and watched Don formulate a plan of attack. The mathematician also admired (and appreciated) Agent David Sinclair, who always had his brother’s back.

Charlie had come to learn that FBI teams just like his student roster changed; he watched various members of Don’s team come and go in the ensuing years. He still missed Terry, the woman had seemed to actually get Charlie.

Over the course of several months, Charlie had formed a budding friendship with the team’s newest members: Colby Granger and Meghan Reeves. 

In the beginning, Charlie had kept Colby at a distance, (simply because the bulked up agent reminded Charlie of every jerk jock he needed to duck from during his school years). 

In an unexpected turn of events; Colby soon became the wisecracking sidekick that Charlie had always wanted by his side during four awful years of high school. He looked forward to talking to Colby when he went to the FBI building. 

Meghan, had intimidated Charlie at first. He was afraid the profiler would detect a hidden weakness. However, Meghan eventually became his go to person during team demonstrations. The agent never once complained when Charlie “borrowed” whatever food she had on hand for a needed visual aid. 

There were days when Charlie would sit in his CalSci office and marvel at how quickly his life had changed. He went from teaching the budding world-class mathematicians in a sheltered atmosphere to working alongside Don, David, Colby, and Meghan. 

If Charlie was ever asked about a defining moment: it would be a toss-up between the time he met his hero Benoit Mandelbrot or when Don went against his superiors and used data Charlie provided to locate an abducted woman. The woman was found and saved from becoming victim #4 of a psychotic serial killer. It would be truly difficult for Charlie to make a choice between the two extraordinary events. 

Then there was Charlie’s amazing friendship with the wickedly smart and wonderfully talented Amita Ramanujan. The friendship was slowly evolving and moving toward it becoming an exclusive dating relationship. The evolution made Charlie both happy and apprehensive. The mathematician was comfortable with the slow and steady momentum of the relationship: Amita - not so much. The fact that she could some day give up on him and walk away caused Charlie moments of real anxiety. Charlie despite wanting to listen to his heart and not his head; simply could not make himself move the relationship along at a faster pace. The totally unexpected ending of his first “real” relationship almost crushed Charlie. It was the fear that it could happen to him again that kept Charlie guarded and protecting his heart. 

Two nights ago Don warned Charlie that Amita was not the kind of woman who was going to wait around hoping that one day Charlie would pick up his pace. Charlie thanked his brother for his insight and immediately changed the subject to a math related issue and Don automatically picked up the TV remote. 

Charlie wondered how much his life could change in another two years and concluded that maybe, just maybe, this getting older thing would turn out to be okay. 

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Charlie always seemed to be in a hurry: a man who needed to be in a state of constant motion. In fact, his father often joked that he had the DNA of a hummingbird. Now, though Charlie, the bustling hummingbird, felt more like a grounded slow-moving Kakapo Parrot. The mathematician’s high energy level: which Charlie relied on to keep his mind sharp and his body in near constant motion had started to sputter. As he headed home from campus after putting in several extra hours of work; Charlie felt like he was running on six cylinders instead of his usual eight. To make matters worse, by the time Charlie made it home; he had developed a cough; a bothersome cough that one knew instantly was not going to allow sound sleep. 

Charlie puts his diminished level of get-up-and-go down to the fact that he just needed to get a good night’s sleep. He had spent the previous night tossing and turning due to an odd feeling of uneasiness. 

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On the second night of Charlie's cold; Alan Eppes, (in desperate need of an uninterrupted night of sleep), presented Charlie with a warm steam vaporizer (seeing how despite a recent discussion his stubborn son still had not purchased one). It was all Alan could do not to laugh as he watched a hapless Charlie struggle to get the masterfully sealed box opened. 

Alan took pity on the perplexed looking man in the bed and relieved Charlie of the overly sealed box. In no time at all Alan had the box opened and perched on the only clear spot of a book and paper-strewn desk in the corner of Charlie’s bedroom. The older man made a mental note to suggest once and for all that as the homeowner Charlie should claim the larger bedroom (Alan’s room).

At the very least; Charlie should move into his brother’s old and slightly bigger room. Alan knew Charlie would once again shoot down both suggestions. He always insisted that he liked the close quarters of his childhood room. Alan could not help but think “I pity the poor girl who would have to put up with the limited size of this room and its one overstuffed closet.”

The sound of Charlie’s deep sounding cough gained the older man’s attention. 

Alan replaced the full glass of warm water on Charlie’s nightstand with a glass full of cooler water. The older man made a great show of placing the glass within easy reach. Alan pulled a bottle of Acetaminophen from the pocket of his sweat jacket. Knowing that his pig-headed son would ignore the bottle as he did the glass of water; Alan shook out two tablets and placed the yellow and red tablets in his son’s hand. Alan chose to ignore the younger man’s scornful expression. 

What Charlie saw as overstepping one’s boundaries; Alan saw as a case of self-preservation. He could not afford with a big date on the horizon to come down with whatever latest bug was making its way around CalSci. 

“Charlie, I hate to nag, but…”

“No, you don’t.” Charlie quickly responded. A smirk formed on his face. 

Alan shot his son a steely look. The smile on Charlie’s face faded and Alan continued. “You need to drink more water.” The figure in the bed decided to start fluffing his pillow. Alan realized that he was losing his audience and drove home his point in a rush of words. “It’s not going to do you one bit of good if all you’re going to do is take minimal sips of water now and then.” 

Charlie fought the urge to pull a heavy down-filled pillow over his face. “Okay, Dad,” Charlie responded in a voice tinged with his growing annoyance. It was becoming all too clear to a miserable feeling Charlie that his father had no intention of leaving until he swallowed the oblong shaped tablets with (what his father felt) an adequate amount of water. Charlie continued to stare at the two pills in his hand. 

“You know Charlie (Alan tapped his son’s wrist) you have to swallow pills in order for them to actually do you any good.” An impatient Alan Eppes announced. He handed the stalling man the glass. “Here.”

Alan heard his youngest son mumble something that he was pretty sure was not a warm-hearted thank you.

Charlie swallowed one pill with what he felt was a healthy amount of water and then repeated the process with another pill. He made a face as the second pill made its way past his aching throat. The expression was not lost on his father. Charlie watched as one of his father’s prominent eyebrows arched. 

Charlie replaced the not even close to being half empty glass on the nightstand. He did not miss the disapproving clucking sound that came from his father. 

“I think I’m going to try to get some sleep.” A fading Charlie declared. He pulled his light cover up to his shoulders, snuggled down into his welcoming mattress, closed his eyes and willed his father to head to his own bedroom.

Apparently, Alan Eppes possessed a stronger will because he never moved from the side of Charlie’s bed. 

“Son, that is the smartest thing you have said all day.” Alan sarcastically answered back. He smiled at the eye roll that followed his statement. Alan patted his son’s leg. “See you in the morning kiddo. Feel better.” 

“Night Dad. Thanks for the…” Charlie waved in the general direction of the vaporizer as he yawned. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Charlie. I hope it helps you sleep tonight.” Alan quietly shut the door. The sound of his son’s hacking followed the worried man down the hallway. He made a mental note to try to find the leftover package of earplugs that he bought when Charlie’s newest neighbors decided to have their driveway demolished and then painstakingly redesigned -- twice. 

Charlie listened to the hiss of steam coming from the corner of the room and could not help but remember all the times when as a sick kid his mother would set up a similar looking vaporizer, coat his chest with nasty smelling goop (a compound that Alan still swore by). She would then sit next to him on his bed and read book after book until Charlie fell asleep. 

Charlie reached out and brushed his hand on the area where he last remembered his mother seated on his bed. The vaporizer’s hissing helped lull a tired Charlie to sleep. 

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Charlie woke the next morning with a slight headache. He tested his throat with a gulp of water (God forbid his father come in and see the glass at the same level) and his aching throat protested as Charlie slowly swallowed. 

Charlie cursed the self-centered uniformed student who had felt it necessary to share with him their cold producing germs. He picked up his cell phone and scrolled until he found his doctor’s number. 

When Charlie heard the sound of the practice’s chirpy receptionist’s voice, he proceeded to sweet talk the woman into setting up an appointment for him at two o’clock that afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie was extremely unhappy. Dr. Richmond had diagnosed him with a raging case of bronchitis. The doctor's pronouncement meant that instead of enjoying the awesomeness of Cabo, San Lucas, Mexico; Charlie was on bed rest and stuck in his decidedly non-exciting house. It was not how he had envisioned spending his highly-anticipated Spring Break.  
  
After five long days holed up at home (two in his room in almost quarantine like conditions), Charlie felt smothered by his father and henpecked by Amita, and then vice versa. The only bright spots during his recovery came from the "just checking in" phone calls from Don, Meghan, Colby, Davd, and Larry. Nine days after getting sick; Charlie, received a clean bill and headed straight for his campus office. He locked the door.  
  
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After his rough bout with bronchitis (during which he felt like there was no real end in sight); a worn-out Charlie Eppes realized that he had to get away.  
  
He had an extremely limited amount of patience left, his brain was fried, and his body was exhausted. There were periods leading up to midterms where he actually fantasized about throwing every student who tried to make it appear that their limited knowledge of the review material was somehow the fault of their instructor  
  
He was definitely seeing a distinct rise in the number of needy students. It was like they expected him to just hand over the answer. The professor did not need to make a flow chart to discover the origin of this growing issue. Charlie already knew the needy ones were a direct byproduct of their overcompensating helicopter parents.  
  
Charlie would have died from embarrassment if either of his parents had called up one of his teachers and demanded a grade change: not the needy ones. In fact, one after seeing her mid year grade put Charlie on notice that he should expect a phone call from her upset parents. Well, she better know her stuff come finals because Charlie went out and purchased a brand new red pen just for finals.

It was after another long day that an idea came to Charlie. He pulled his laptop from his bag, sat back down at his desk, and waited for his laptop to boot up. When all systems were go; Charlie mapped out an obligation free summer: his first in nearly a decade.  
  
He then went to his CalSci mail account and began composing an email.  
  
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The powers that be at CalSci were shocked when they received an email in which Charlie announced that he would not be on campus at all during summer sessions.  
  
Charlie surprised his usually unshakable father when he informed Alan that he was not stepping foot on campus, lecturing, or taking on any speaking engagements during the months of July and August.  
  
Amita was the last person Charlie let in on his plans. At first, he could tell she thought it was a joke. He almost wavered when Amita pointed out that there were several informative lectures and seminars that they had discussed attending in July and August. Charlie, however, stuck to his guns: he was not going to be on campus and he was not attending a single seminar/lecture in July or August.  
  
Larry, voiced his displeasure when Charlie revealed that he was also not going to work on a single research project or paper during the summer. The physicist pointed out how important the next two years were going to be in terms of the amount of awe inspiring work Charlie would still be able to produce. When Charlie expressed no regrets about wanting to take a couple of months off in order to recharge his batteries; Larry went silent for several seconds before announcing “corvus oculum corvi non eruit.”  
  
Larry offered up the translation for Charlie: "a crow will not pull out the eye of another crow."  
  
Charlie had stared blankly at Larry. He had no idea what point his friend was attempting to make. Larry said the meaning was quite simple: he would have Charlie’s back until he returned to campus.  
  
Touched, Charlie had bear hugged the smaller man. He only let go when a muffled voice said: “Charles while I appreciate your enthusiasm I am finding my ability to breathe somewhat compromised.”  
  
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Charlie published a major game-changing theorem at the ripe old ripe old age of fourteen and now at twenty-eight the mathematician was acutely aware of the enormous amount of time and energy it took to stay ahead of the pack. However, for the first time, since graduating high school at the ripe old age of thirteen, Charlie simply did not care whether he finished in the front, middle, or back of the pack.  
  
He would have to work his butt off after his self-imposed downtime in order to be ready for his Fall courses, and for the first time since stepping on campus Charlie would not be looked upon as the universities poster boy for over achievement.  
  
That realization took a while to wrap his head around because to be honest; Charlie felt he deserved all the ego stroking he received at Calsci.  
  
When Charlie got up the nerve to tell his Don about his summer plans; his brother punched him in the arm, but a second later, happily declared, “bro, I’m happy for you.”  
  
The remainder of April proved to be uneventful and thankfully germ free. Charlie plodded on despite not being able to shake the tired feeling that seemed to shadow him every day.  
  
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He had mapped out his goal. Charlie was going to get the hell out of Dodge! The professor could almost feel the sand between his toes. The only thing that stood between Charlie and his objective were six weeks. As luck would have it; during those last six weeks Charlie had to get his students ready for finals. There would be no slacking off on his part. He was not going to let a week at Simple Pleasures Resort slip through his fingers. Again.  
  
The mathematician’s yearly traveling schedule had him on a first name basis with a travel agent, Madison O'Keefe. The super efficient woman had not only managed to get the resort to waive their hefty cancellation fee, but she also uncovered an ocean view suite that had become available and snapped it up for Charlie.  
  
Charlie sent Madison a dozen pink long-stemmed roses and two tickets to “Turn of the Screw” at the Los Angeles Opera House. He picked pink roses because the color symbolized appreciation. Charlie purchased the play tickets because his father had raved about it and theorized that since Madison was about the same age as his father; she would enjoy the play too.  
  
When Charlie mentioned to Amita that his trip was back on; she told him how happy she was for him, but the worried man was not sure that was the case. There was a moment when Charlie thought he saw a look of disappointment flash across her face. Later, alone in his office, a disconcerting thought hit. Had Amita been expecting him to ask her to go with him to Cabo? If that was the case, then Charlie had unknowingly screwed up not once - but twice.  
  
By the time Charlie got up the nerve to ask Amita; he found out that she had booked a trip to Vegas. Apparently it was one of those girls only trips. He was baffled as to why she would choose as her traveling companions a bunch of woman that Amita had complained more than once, "existed to collect campus gossip.”  
  
Amita made sure to drive home the point during a dinner date that she was leaving for her trip on the day that Charlie was scheduled to arrive home.  
  
Charlie was not buying her statement that the departure/arrival overlapping was “a coincidence.”  
  
Later, when Charlie asked his brother for advice on how to right a wrong that he had no idea he somehow made, Don told him that being in a relationship was like trying to make it through a minefield without getting your ass blown off.  
  
Charlie did not thank his brother for his insight.  
  
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May was a busy month for Charlie. He spent the first week working well past eight o'clock each night in his office. He hated dealing with all the pointless paperwork that signaled the end of each term. It clogged his inbox every morning and was non-stop.  
  
He fulfilled two long-standing speaking obligations: one at MIT and the other at Stanford.  
  
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June 1st  
  
Charlie was a couple thoughts away from completing and sending off a foreword for political economist, Basili Bahatti. It was a personal request and Charlie’s words were to be included in the man’s soon-to-be published second book. Charlie and Basili had formed a friendship (despite a 30 year age difference) based on respect for each other’s work. They met two years ago when Basili gave a lecture at MIT on “Microcredit and Third World Countries.”  
  
Right in the middle of an amazing thought; Don appeared.  
  
Charlie had taped a “Do Not Disturb” sign on his door. He was remiss in not adding “No Don!”  
  
Don needed to pick Charlie’s brain on a work related issue. Charlie stopped himself from uttering “Wow! Big surprise.” He told Don to take a seat.  
  
Don put a manila colored folder down on the corner of his brother’s desk. He picked up a faxed photo. The image was of Basili Bahatti. It was a proof photo destined to be placed on the back of the author’s latest book.  
  
Already in agent mode, Don intently studied the photo. He asked, Who’s this guy?”  
  
“He’s an esteemed economist.” Charlie answered. (He omitted the word political because he just didn’t have the time for Don’s “watch who you associate with” speech). His brother was becoming a major distraction. Charlie attempted to finish typing a sentence.  
  
“Is he based in the States?” Don inquired. He held the picture out in front of him.  
  
“He lives in France part of the year.” Charlie only volunteered. He knew what his brother was up to. He snatched the photo back. “Stop being paranoid.”  
  
Charlie reread the sentence just typed. It lacked clarity. He sighed, highlighted the entire sentence and then hit delete.  
  
“Where does he live the other half?” Don’s interest was piqued. He wondered if it was time again to remind his brother about the importance of the company he keeps. It not only reflected on Charlie, but on Don and the FBI.  
  
“He lectures on economics all over the world, Don.” Charlie purposely avoided answering the question. He gave up on his typing and looked at his interfering sibling. “The man’s a noted author.” Charlie added. He made sure his response contained an appropriate amount of sarcasm.  
  
“Well, I guess that makes him a Saint then.” Don replied. Two could play the sarcasm game.  
  
Charlie deleted another sentence. “Trust me Basili’s Bahatti’s name will not show up on any of the FBI’s spooky looking men databases.”  
  
“Very Funny Charlie,” Don replied. He was not amused by his younger brother’s condescending attitude.  
  
“Look, just pick my brain so I can finish this.” Charlie grumbled. He closed his laptop and turned his full attention to his brother.  
  
Don needed Charlie to run a face recognition program. An FBI technician had tried and the results were a wash. Don knew Charlie would be able to whip up that would show better results: that was a given.  
  
An arsonist was targeting Mosques. At this point, he was using the cover of darkness as a shield. Thankfully, that meant two sites had been empty of worshippers. Don had a feeling the arsonist was not getting the amount of TV coverage he craved and would torch the next Mosque in daylight.  
  
Charlie looked over the file material and promised that he would start working on it in the next hour or so.  
  
While his brother did not do his “It doesn’t have to be right away” spiel; Charlie could tell that Don wanted answers yesterday.  
  
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It was the following Friday that Charlie walked into his house to discover that it was Alan-free. He fist-pumped the air at the prospect of actually having a night alone. He dropped his messenger bag under the coat rack, and made a beeline for the couch. The homeowner was totally engrossed in an episode of Planet Earth when his cell phone rang. It was a call from a colleague who wanted to know why, Charlie, the main draw was not at the maiden committee meeting for the Black Tie fundraiser. The Black Tie campaign was Charlie’s brainchild. He fought Board of Trustee’s tooth and nail for its acceptance. All the money raised during the campaign would fund the universities new (and sorely needed) Inner City scholarship program.  
  
Thirty minutes later, Charlie was back on campus: seated at a crowded table, and drinking bad coffee.  
  
The meeting dragged on for almost three hours. When Charlie finally got home, he found a note informing him that he had left the TV on. He crumpled up the note and programmed the TV to come on at 6:55 (knowing Alan religiously came down for a 7:00 a.m. cup of coffee). He crawled into bed at 12:02 a.m.  
  
At 7:35, Charlie was scrambling to get to work. He retrieved some papers from the solarium and made a mad dash down the staircase. Hitting the foyer Charlie again felt his heartbeat go oddly off tract. His attention, however, was quickly diverted by the fact that his father was in full 60’s activist mode about future power grid outages and headed his way.  
  
Charlie beat it out the front door.  
  
Sometimes his old man just couldn’t take a joke.  
  
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Charlie stepped into his office and soon found himself being pulled in six different directions.  
  
The harried man took to ripping off a page a day from his (previously ignored) Scripps National Spelling Bee desk calendar (a gag birthday gift from Don) after having finished the very last detail of his day. It helped the frazzled professor to see that despite the seemingly unending work; his escape was still on track.  
  
Every day mirrored the previous one. Charlie was inundated with year-end paperwork. Everything he read needed an answer from him 24 hours ago.  
  
He was worn out, irritable, and had no more fingernails left to chew. Because the goal was so very close; Charlie ignored all the messages his body was sending out. Instead of slowing down; Charlie started skipping the walking breaks Larry insisted they go on together.  
  
Charlie would walk the beach in Cabo.  
  
He had started downing one antacid after another and wondered if a 28-year-old could have a heart attack.  
  
The swamped mathematician continued his ritual of ripping off another calendar page. “It’ll be here soon,” became his daily mantra.  
  
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Finals: Charlie was in the home stretch.  
  
The professor did a lot of reviewing, gave a lot of pep talks, and held a lot of tissue boxes during office hours.  
  
Charlie promised his father (after another missed hot meal) that once he marked the finals and posted the grades he was going slow things down.  
  
A miracle happened: Charlie managed to catch up and turn in all his paperwork. The tsunami receded and took with it what was left of Charlie’s patience.  
  
He posted grades on June 15th. Charlie met the midnight deadline with 46 minutes and 15 seconds to spare. He always prided himself on the fact that he was usually the first to post grades. This time around, he was the last professor to get his grades in and that fact left Charlie feeling like he had let down his anxiety-ridden students.  
  
It was almost over. There were only a handful of calendar pages for June left.  
  
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June 16th: The very last department meeting.  
  
Charlie unintentionally nodded off as Dr. Seibel, the Department Chair, droned on about the need to cut back on frivolous department expenditures in the upcoming year. Charlie found himself elbowed back to consciousness by Professor Adachi.  
  
Professor Adachi, (at least 105 by Charlie’s estimate), wagged his wrinkly finger in Charlie’s face. If Charlie had not been raised to respect his elders; he would have taken a good swat at the prune-like digit.  
  
The old Professor must have sensed Charlie’s displeasure because he got up for a “cup of coffee” and then sat down in an empty seat far away from Charlie.  
  
Charlie, swiveled in his chair, he gave Adachi a long stare which resulted in the older man moving for a second time and by doing so disrupted Dr. Seibel's dissertation on the correct form one must submit for grant submissions.  
  
Charlie couldn’t help himself; he wagged a finger at the elderly red-faced man.  
  
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It was over!!!  
  
On June 18th, Charlie locked his office door. He was running on four cylinders and theorized that whatever was dragging him down would correct itself once he plopped down in a poolside lounge chair in Cabo.  
  
He had a quiet weekend lined up.  
  
On Tuesday, (Charlie hated traveling on heavy traffic days like Saturday, Sunday, and Monday) his flight would be taking off.  
  
Saturday at noon Charlie went all romantic and spontaneous.  
  
He ordered an enormous bouquet of Amita’s favorite flowers to be sent to her apartment. After an appropriate amount of time; Charlie called the florist to make sure the order had been processed. He was informed that the flowers were in route to be delivered.  
  
Two hours later, with no word from Amita: Charlie was mystified. He had been spontaneous! A quality that Amita once “jokingly” said he needed some work on.  
  
An hour later, Charlie went from being mystified to just plain mad. Not only had Charlie been spontaneous he went for romantic too. He had a note included that stated how much he was going to miss Amita. It had made Charlie extremely uncomfortable to have to dictate his feelings over the phone to a complete stranger.  
  
He gave up waiting for Amita to call and tried finding someone who wanted to grab a late lunch. Everyone was apparently busy. Even Larry, his go to guy, had plans. Larry!  
  
Charlie stewed for the rest of the afternoon. He vowed not to contact Amita. Two could play this game.  
  
Alan left to go play golf without extending an invitation to Charlie.  
  
When his father was a no show for dinner; Charlie ordered a fully loaded pizza and managed to eat half of it.  
  
Alan, came in, showered and then left for his book club.  
  
Charlie was so bored, if asked he would have tagged along just to get out of the house.  
  
Except, once again, his father did not offer an invitation.  
  
Charlie took great umbrage to the dual slights.  
  
Thirty minutes later, Charlie’s heart literally hurt and he blamed it on the multiple toppings from the pizza.  
  
At 10:45 p.m. a downhearted Charlie went to bed: He threw the covers over his head and willed sleep to come.  
  
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Sunday morning:  
  
Still disgruntled Charlie poured into a bowl the last remnants of his father’s favorite cereal (a granola mix – Charlie hated granola but he had a point to get across). He took possession of both the sofa and the TV remote. He channel surfed just to annoy his father. Charlie stopped on a documentary on wallabies. He heard a hmpf come from his father and smiled for the first time in hours.  
Alan, wisely made no mention of the cereal and tried making small talk with his sullen offspring, but Charlie was having none of it.  
  
He knew the silent treatment was because he did not ask Charlie if he wanted to go golfing. Alan had and almost extended an offer to Charlie to sit in on his book club. Then good sense kicked in. If he subjected his book club members to one of Charlie’s full on sulks they would have been banned Alan for life.  
  
At 8:30 (after being told to take his empty cereal bowl off the coffee table) Charlie sought sanctuary in the solarium.  
  
He heard his father’s sigh of relief as he walked to the foyer.  
  
Charlie knew exactly how Alan felt. He didn’t like his own company right now either.  
  
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Instead of working; Charlie fluffed up a pillow, pulled on a throw cover, and went to sleep on the sofa bed in the solarium.  
  
He woke up two and a half hours later to find that he had missed a call from Amita.  
  
Charlie debated as to whether to call her back.  
  
Good manners won out. Charlie called.  
  
Amita chirped that she loved the flowers and went on and on about how beautiful they were.  
  
Charlie wanted to interrupt her and point out the fact that in all likelihood the flowers were actually at their peak of color SATURDAY the day they were DELIVERED.  
  
Charlie mumbled a half-hearted “thank you.”  
  
Amita sensed his irritation. She quickly explained how her Saturday had turned into a whirlwind of activity. That it It had started with an outing for the perfect dress and shoes for her trip. She explained to Charlie that the flowers arrived while she was still out shopping.  
  
Charlie gave a non-committed “uh huh” answer.  
  
Amita pointed out that her roommate, Kelly, had signed for the flowers. In an act of revenge (Amita had informed Kelly that the living arrangement was not working out) Kelly had put the flowers in her room.  
  
Amita said she almost killed the girl when Kelly came out of her bedroom with the flowers and handed them over with an “oops, sorry” attitude.  
  
“I called right after she handed them to me. I’m sorry Charlie. You must have been so upset with me last night.” Amita said apologetically. She knew just how badly Charlie took any type of perceived slight. It had to have been a long night for poor Alan Eppes.  
  
“No,” Charlie lied. “ I just assumed you were busy.”  
  
“Charlie, I hope you know that I would never do anything to purposely hurt your feelings,” Amita replied. She knew he had been hurt. “Now I have to start looking for a new roommate.” 

Charlie did not comment on the roommate situation.  
  
Amita smiled at the prolonged silence coming from Charlie’s side of the conversation. She let the poor man off the hook.  
  
“I know that Shelby Williams, Professor Schmidt’s TA, is looking to move out of student housing. She wants more space. I think it could work.” Amita sounded hopeful.  
  
She went from talking about needing a new roommate to explaining how she had run into an old classmate from her freshman year. Amita then mentioned going on an unexpected lunch date.  
  
“A lunch date?” A questioning Charlie replied. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. He was getting a headache.  
  
"Charlie? Are you upset?" Amita asked. She was confused. Didn’t they just hash everything out?”  
  
“No. Why would I be upset?” Charlie replied. He could almost hear the voice in Amita’s head retort: because you won’t use the word exclusive to define your relationship.  


Alan Eppes had been in the process of knocking on the solarium door. He was going to ask if Charlie planned on getting the food ready for the grill. However, when he heard his son utter the words “lunch date” and “upset” he froze in the hallway.  
  
“She never called because of a lunch date!” Alan muttered to himself.  
  
"I went with an old lab partner, Alisha McDonalds. I doubt you two ever crossed paths.” The young woman volunteered. “Wait, Charlie did you think I went on a lunch date –with another man?”  
  
“No!” An embarrassed Charlie blurted out. The voice in his head screamed, “MINEFIELD!!! MOVE!!!” He quickly changed the subject. “So I take it this Alisha is not a math fan?"  
  
While he waited for Amita’s answer Charlie realized his brother’s theory on being in a relationship was absolutely correct. He wondered, “Was it too late to thank Don?”  
  
Alan relaxed. All was right again in Charlie/Amitaville.  
  
“Hardly,” Amita said with a laugh. “The only thing I really remember about her were the snide remarks she used to make about my fashion sense.”  
  
“I think you look great in everything that you wear.” Charlie remarked.  
  
“Thanks Charlie.” Amita wished she was sitting next to him. “She’s engaged and showed me the Gibraltar sized rock on her finger.” She heard a chuckle.  
  
“It must have been heavy and blinding.” Charlie commented. He would never understand why some people needed to advertise their wealth. He had helped Don trace the movements of a home invasion gang who picked out their victims based on their opulent social media posts.  
  
“Oh, it was.” Amita responded. “She is going to marry some big hot hedge fund manager.”  
  
“Older and loaded.” Charlie asked. Even thought he already knew the answer.  
  
“Of course.” Amita quipped. “His name is Michael Berger.”  
  
“Not that old but very loaded.” Charlie said. He had just finished reading an unflattering “day in the life” article on Michael Berger.  
  
“Alisha is going to hyphenate her name after the wedding.  
  
Amita waited.  
  
"Well, lot’s of…”  
  
"She’s going to be Alisha McDonalds-Berger." Amita explained.  
  
Charlie repeated the name and burst out laughing.  
  
Out in the hallway, Alan searches an adjacent closet for a lighter blanket, swallows a snort of laughter.  
  
“After lunch, I found myself stuck with her for the rest of the afternoon. Later, we ended up in Berger’s office. I started having the feeling that I should be acting more impressed.” Amita commented.  
  
“Well, it was a lot to take in in one afternoon. The bling. The office. The Berger.” Charlie replied jokingly.  
  
“Exactly.” Amita volleyed back. “So this leads to an odd three person dinner. I think my meal cost more than my car payment.” She went quiet for a second. “Charlie I got back so late and you looked so tired on Friday. I didn’t want to call and wake you so I decided to wait until the morning.”  
  
"I missed hearing your voice." Charlie responded. He had expected to hear something along the lines of - Oh Charlie! But instead he got silence. "Amita?"  
  
In the hallway, Alan came up empty. He thought it might be in Don’s old room which butted the solarium.  
  
"Charlie," Amita said slowly. "I did a terrible thing tonight.”  
  
“You did… something terrible,” Charlie stumbled over the words. He braced for impact.  
  
Alan passed the solarium. He then heard Charlie’s remarks and stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
“These two are going to give me a heart attack.” Alan said to himself.  
  
Amita had no idea the alarm she had just set off and gamefully continued with her story.  
  
"Alisha told Berger that she had always loved the sound of my name. A total lie by the way. Anyway, he wants me to think of a beautiful girl’s name that they could use in the future.” Amita revealed.

“What’s the terrible part Amita.” Charlie stated. He never realized how bad Amita was at retelling events in a thorough and timely manner. Charlie deduced that it was another minefield an opted to keep it to himself.  
  
“Eta. I gave them the name Eta.” Amita blurted out. “It means luminous in Hindu.”  
  
"Eta” Charlie repeated the name.  
  
“Not Ata Charlie. It’s pronounced with a long E.” She said patiently.  
  
“Eta.” Charlie corrected the pronunciation of the name.  
  
“Right.” Amita replied slowly. “Now say it as a full name Charlie.”  
  
"Eta McDonalds-Berger!" Charlie said aloud.  
  
Amita had to pull her cell phone away from her ear because Charlie was laughing so loud.  
  
Alan ducked into Don’s old room before he laughed at the absurd sounding moniker.  
  
"I’m a petty evil woman.” Amita confessed.  
  
"Well,” Charlie teased. “Look, maybe they won’t use it." He snuggled back down into the sofa.  
  
"Oh, no. He loved its uniqueness. She loved that he loved it.” Amita revealed. "There’ going to be a poor little baby Eta McDonalds-Berger."  
  
This time it was Amita’s turn to laugh.  
  
Clutching a lightweight blanket, Alan headed to his bedroom. The land line phone was ringing. “Probably Stan,” Alan mused. His best friend was on a mission to set Alan up on a blind date.  
  
Charlie asked Amita if she wanted to stop by later. Amita said she would try, but that there was an issue with her parents that apparently required a Skype session. Amita explained that she had even been given an exact time in which to call her parents.  
  
The call ended with Amita telling Charlie that she missed him already.  
  
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Charlie lay sprawled out on the sofa for another five minutes. He thought about heading downstairs and whipping up the hamburgers that were still needed for his spur of the moment barbecue. It was Charlie’s way of thanking his brother and father for helping him through a rough couple of weeks.  
  
That was the plan. However, within 10 minutes Charlie was out cold on the sofa.  
  
Alan returned to the doorway. He was going to see if Charlie wanted him to get the burgers ready. Don was going to be heading over soon. He knocked. When he did not receive an answer Alan quietly opened the door. It should have surprised him to see Charlie sleeping except lately it had become almost a common occurrence. He was more determined than ever to see to it that Charlie went for a second opinion. Even if it meant his strong-willed son was might miss his flight on Tuesday. The worried man backed out of the room and shut the door.  
  
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Charlie woke fifteen minutes later. He struggled to sit up. “Why the hell did he just dream that he was drowning?” Charlie tried to put into action the calming exercise from earlier. He couldn’t concentrate. He was just too freaked out. Charlie had just drifted off when this feeling came over him like he had swallowed a ton of water. It felt so god awful real that Charlie woke in an instant.  
  
He tried to leave the uneasy feeling behind in the solarium but it followed him downstairs. The sound of his father singing and puttering around in the kitchen helped to finally chase the bad vibes away.

A determined Charlie made his way into the kitchen. He needed to be in the same room as his father.  
  
“I got the burgers primed and ready to go.” Alan announced,  
  
“Sorry. I…” Charlie started.  
  
“I know.” Alan responded. He took a good look at Charlie and knew something was off. The discussion could wait. “You’ve been demoted to salad maker.”  
  
“Salad it is then,” Charlie said with a smile. He set up shop directly across from where his father was standing.  
  
Charlie was in the middle of slicing tomatoes and Alan was bustling around getting out plates and silverware when Don breezed into the kitchen.  
  
Charlie gave his older brother, his usual "hey" greeting and Don gave his usual nod in return.  
  
Don greeted Alan warmly. He grabbed a beer from the fridge before plopping down in a chair next to Charlie.  
  
Charlie slid a grater toward his brother and then lobbed three good-sized carrots in front of Don.  
  
"Start shredding." Charlie ordered.  
  
"I'm a guest." Don protested. He took a healthy swig of beer.  
  
"Shred.” Charlie answered.  
  
Don positioned an empty bowl in front of what was now apparently his work station. He put down the bottle and picked up a carrot. He took a good long look at his brother's semi-tousled bed head look. Don pointed a carrot in Charlie’s direction.  
  
"So what's with the Woodstock throwback look?" Don inquired.  
  
Alan, who had actually been to Woodstock, snickered in the background. A fact he has yet to share with Don or Charlie.  
  
“Don’t encourage him,” Charlie good naturedly warned his father.  
  
Don swiped the carrot across the shredder a total of four times and then lost interest in the process.  
  
"Your brother took a short nap," Alan said as he dried his hands on a kitchen towel. He placed a platter that held several fist sized burgers between Don and Charlie. They were seasoned to perfection.  
  
Charlie caught his reflection in the microwave and tried patting down his rebellious hair.  
  
"The first weekend of summer break and you’re already napping?" Don teased. "You better pace yourself bro." There was nothing more enjoyable than razzing his younger brother.  
  
“Shut up!” Charlie drew out his response. He had been so sure his father’s nap response was going to be the start of another “discussion” with Don thrown in as added back up.  
  
“Donnie go out and start-up the grill." Alan moved the shredder and carrots. "Take all this with you." Alan handed his amused looking eldest son the platter and silverware.  
  
"You know…” Don called over his shoulder as he was being steered toward the back door." "I wish my job came with those kind of perks but you know…"  
  
"Crime never takes a vacation." Charlie finished his brother’s often repeated sentence. He finished shredding the carrots.  
  
"Well, yeah, there’s that and the fact that some of us have to do big boy jobs." Don mockingly replied. A cherry tomato made contact with the back of Don’s neck. It then bounced to the floor.  
  
"You! Stop throwing food!" Alan admonished his youngest offspring. "You!" Alan pointed to his eldest. "Fire up the grill and stop tormenting your brother."  
  
Charlie popped a cherry tomato in his mouth and savored the flavor. He threw his brother a look of triumph.  
  
Alan held the screen door open.  
  
Charlie, grabbed three beers from the refrigerator, picked up the bowl containing his colorful offering and headed out to the patio.  
  
He placed the salad bowl and three beers on the patio table. He was about to defend his academic honor when he felt his heart begin to beat in an odd non- rhythmic pattern. Surprised by the anomaly happening within his chest; Charlie placed a hand on his chest at the exact moment that his father walked away from the smoking grill.  
  
The feeling lasted only a second or two and then his heart returned to a more rhythmic steady pattern. Aware of being once again under his father's scrutiny; Charlie moved around the table; placing the beer near each plate.  
"What's wrong?" Alan asked.  
  
"Don gives me heartburn." Charlie answered only semi-joking.  
  
Don, manning the grill, waved off the remark with a black and silver spatula.  
  
Alan decided not to push the issue. “Just enjoy the time together,” he advised himself. Alan claimed a chair and watched as Charlie gave out grilling instructions that Don ignored.  
  
Don said something to Charlie and both men erupted into a fit of laughter.  
  
Alan, reached into his pant’s pocket for his phone. He wanted a picture, but came up empty. He had left his cell phone in the house.  
  
He was unreasonably upset about missing the moment. When Don and Charlie headed toward the table; Alan threw on a smile.  
  
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After an enjoyable lunch, the threesome moved inside. Don took possession of the TV remote and the sofa. He found the movie “Shawshank Redemption” just starting. Charlie groaned. He asked Don if they could find a movie where everyone in the room did not already know every line of dialogue.  
  
The sound of violins filled the living room as the movie’s opening theme began to play.  
  
Charlie groaned.  
  
Don turned the volume up.  
  
Charlie made himself comfortable in a nearby chair and loudly repeated the lines of the main character, Andy.  
  
Don told him to shut up.  
  
Alan snapped open a new book.  
  
Don managed to make it to the point in the movie where poor Andy shuffles off the prison transport bus before his cell phone went off. He cursed as he roughly pulled it from his belt.  
  
“Don’t change it.” Don warned the two other occupants in the room. He pushed open the kitchen door with his free hand. He took a wishful look at the TV before disappearing into the kitchen.  
  
Ten minutes later, Don made his way back into the living room. He was surprised to see that his movie was still on. He thought for sure that Charlie would have used the golden opportunity to switch channels.  
  
He stood directly behind the chair that Charlie occupied and watched as the first meeting between Andy and Red took place on the TV screen.  
  
“Hey, would you have time tomorrow to help me on a case?” Don asked Charlie as he continued watching the movie.  
  
When he did not receive a response; Don looked down and discovered his brother had his head resting on the armchair and his eyes were shut.  
  
“Seriously, this cannot be the first time you’ve seen him fall asleep at the drop of a hat.” Alan commented from across the room.  
  
“I didn’t know I was supposed to be keeping a tally.” Don answered in a hushed tone. “How long has this been going on?  
  
“You would have some idea what’s going on around here if you would answer some of my calls.” Alan shot back.  
  
“I’ve been busy at work Dad.” Don volleyed back. “I don’t think he even heard me.”  
  
Don should have known better.  
  
“I’m not asleep.” Charlie stated. He sat up in the chair. “I was resting due to the fact that we have collectively watched this movie twenty six times since it’s release thirteen years ago.”  
  
Don knew better than to argue with his brother when it came to statistics  
  
“That’s only twice a year.” Don pointed out.  
  
“Right. Twice a year for thirteen years.” Charlie griped. He stood up and stretched. He knew his brother was looking at him and trying to determine if he had possibly overlooked something.  
  
I’m just tired from having been sick, from midterms, from finals week, from not taking a real vacation in the last ten years.” Charlie announced more for his father’s benefit than his brother’s.  
  
“Hey,” Don said with raised hands in mock surrender. “I’m not the one who thinks you’re turning into a Sleeping Beauty.”  
  
Alan huffed loudly from his chair.  
  
“Can we just move on? Charlie asked. He focused his attention on Don. “You said you needed my help.” Charlie avoided looking at his father afraid that he would say something he couldn’t take back.  
  
“You leave for Cabo on Tuesday.” Alan helpfully volunteered. “You need to rest up.”  
  
“I know my travel itinerary, Dad,” an irritated Charlie answered. He shot Don a “save me” look.  
  
Don noted that his brother looked a little frayed around the edges, but Charlie was like a rubber ball; he always bounced back. Like he said he just needed to get away.  
  
Charlie’s cell phone started playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.  
  
“Don’t go anywhere,” he pleaded with Don. “I’ll be right back.” Charlie headed off in the direction of the garage.  
  
As soon as Charlie was gone; Alan launched himself out of his chair.  
  
“He should not be leaving Tuesday. Not without seeing another doctor first.” Alan announced. “I want you to talk to him. He’ll listen to you.”  
  
"Dad,” Don interjected. “I’m not a miracle worker.”  
  
“If you tell him to go. He’ll go.” Alan exclaimed. He glanced into the foyer.  
  
Don watched a cavalcade of emotions swept across his father's face. He didn’t want to take sides, but his father’s crumbling expression was making it too damn hard to stay neutral.  
  
"Donnie, I think this doctor that treated Charlie’s wrote everything off as bronchitis. I think he missed something.” Alan said quietly.  
  
“Dad, what are you basing this theory on?.” Don was sure that his father was making a mountain out of a mole hill. The man worried too much.  
  
“My gut feeling. I’m telling you the doctor missed something.” Alan protested. He saw a familiar expression on his oldest son’s face. “You think I’m over exaggerating.”  
  
"The truth. Yes.” Don figured the sooner he called Alan on it; the sooner the discussion would end. “Charlie’s just needs a break.”  
  
“Exactly. What I’ve been telling him.” Charlie said from the foyer.  
  
Don turned around slowly.  
  
Alan looked up and into the foyer.  
  
Don tried to ward off an explosion the had the potential of becoming epic.  
  
“Charlie, look Dad is only being a Dad.” Don offered by way of a peace offering. To say his sibling looked angry was an understatement.  
  
It was always unnerving waiting for Charlie to explode. Don braced for impact.  
  
Charlie threw his hands up in the air, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.  
  
Don glanced over at confused looking father.  
  
Charlie concentrated on the sound of his own breathing. Surprisingly, it kind of hurt to breathe and exhaling could have gone smoother: neither of which Charlie had any intention of sharing.  
  
Charlie decided that the meditation class Amita had dragged him (kicking and screaming) to last week might actually become a new weekly ritual.  
  
When Charlie opened his eyes, he looked directly at Alan. “Make the damn appointment. If they can see me tomorrow afternoon. I’ll go.” He was tired of fighting with his father. It used up too much energy.  
  
“Charlie. I’m just…” Alan began.  
  
“I’m only agreeing because going takes away any reason for you to call me a thousand times while I’m away.” Charlie stated. He paused for a second. “Dad, you have to start accepting my decisions. You have to stop running interference for me.” Charlie said earnestly. “Just step back."  
  
Alan Eppes knew what his son was asking of him was not unreasonable. When called on it in the past; Alan took great offense and turned the tables on Charlie. The poor kid always caved. Alan could change his outlook. He chose not. Helping Charlie out of jams made Alan feel needed and productive.  
  
Don wanted to high-five his brother. The showdown was years in the offering and long overdue.  
  
"Okay, Charlie, it's your show from here on out." Alan Eppes reluctantly announced.  
  
“I hope so.” Charlie answered truthfully. He turned his attention to Don.”What time do you need me tomorrow?”  
  
"Can you come in around ten?”  
  
"Sure, I can do ten." Charlie readily agreed. “What kind case are we looking at?” Charlie had to call Amita back. They had just arranged to meet for breakfast in the morning.  
  
Don heard his brother say “we” and couldn’t help but wonder, “holy crap, what the hell did I start?"  
  
"Don?" Charlie was still waiting for an answer.  
  
"Sorry," Don replied. He was not sure if he was apologizing for zoning out or for bringing Charlie to the FBI. "It's a possible missing person's case. We have to run down some…"  
  
"Are you heading into the office? I'll come with you." Charlie was suddenly full of energy. He made a beeline for his bag.  
  
Don moved and blocked Charlie. "Charlie tomorrow will be…"  
  
"Possibly too late." Charlie answered. "Could you move? I need my bag.”  
  
Alan opened his mouth and then slammed it shut.  
  
"David is still in the process of determining if this person is missing or if she purposely went MIA. There's really nothing for you to work on at the moment." Don explained.  
  
Don’s phone vibrated as he moved toward the front door. He knew that Charlie was right behind with bag in hand. He stopped and Charlie ran into his back.  
  
"Look!” Don said loudly.“I will see you in the office at 10. David or I will give you everything we've managed to pull together.” He pulled open the front door, and walked out.  
  
"If you want me to come in earlier just…” Charlie was addressing a closed door. “”Okay then."  
  
A disappointed Charlie called into the living room. "I'll be in the solarium working for a couple of hours.” He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and headed for the staircase.  
  
"What about dinner?” Alan innocently inquired.  
  
Charlie hung his head down as he stood on the first step. This transition was going to be a work in progress. Charlie called out. “If I get hungry. I’ll come down and grab something.” He waited for an offer to bring him something later. When there was nothing but silence a pleased looking Charlie headed upstairs  
  
Alan got up and walked to the edge of the living room.  
  
"I'm going to watch some TV. Maybe call Stan and see if he wants to maybe go bowling. If so, we’ll probably stop and get something to eat.” Alan watched the retreating figure pause halfway up the staircase.  
  
Charlie never took the stairs at a normal pace. He ran up and he ran down.  
  
“Have fun.” Charlie said as he continued up the staircase.  
  
Alan watched until Charlie walked down the hallway. He heard solarium door open and then heard it close.  
  
He walked back into the living room.  
  
Alan picked up his cell phone and found Stan’s number.  
  
Alan returned home at 10:44 that night. After locking the door behind him; Alan headed upstairs. He paused briefly on the top landing. There was a strip of light visible at the bottom of the solarium door. He thought for a minute whether to knock and ask Charlie if he had eaten something.  
  
Alan remembered his promise and headed down the hallway. Charlie was going for a second opinion tomorrow (Alan would be on the phone first thing in the morning) and he had a date for next Friday. A definite win/win.  
  
Alan smiled as he walked into his bedroom. Charlie would thank him for making him go; Alan was sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie was up bright and early the next morning. He blamed his lack of a full night's sleep on being way too hyped up over the idea of working with his brother again. He showered, dressed, and managed to put the finishing touches on some work in the garage all before seven o'clock. As he went about making a cup of coffee his father walked into the kitchen and reminded Charlie to not to make any plans for the afternoon. Charlie did not acknowledge the request. Alan felt it necessary to explain that he was using his connections (something about Stan's son dating the best friend of the niece of the receptionist at Dr. Zonies office) to get Charlie an appointment. When Alan opened the refrigerator door looking for dinner inspiration; Charlie threw a "gotta go" to the back of his father's head, gathered up his things, and left the house.  
  
Typical morning traffic ate up some of the extra time, but Charlie still arrived at the FBI office almost two hours ahead of when Don asked him to show up.  
  
The moment the elevator doors slid open on the 5th floor; it hit Charlie how much he had missed working alongside Don, Meghan, David and Colby. There was activity everywhere and the atmosphere itself all but buzzed.  
  
The glow of Meghan's warm smile when she looked up and the woman's crushing hug, told Charlie he too had been missed. He received a heavy handed "welcome back" pat on the back from Colby. While David broke into one of his mega-watt smiles and gave Charlie an unintentionally hard high-five. The overly exuberant agent's greeting left Charlie's hand stinging afterwards. The jokes between the three agents centered around how having Charlie back on deck would hopefully put Don in a better mood.  
  
Don spotted Charlie as soon as he walked out of the break room.  
  
Charlie could tell by the man's pinched expression that his brother was not a happy camper. "Great," Charlie thought, "He's pissed that I'm here so early."  
  
After a few minutes of catching up on office gossip (supplied largely by Colby), Don ordered his team back to work, latched on to Charlie's elbow, and steered his younger brother toward the conference room.  
  
"I know you said come at 10 but I completed some work and…"Charlie began.  
  
"Don't worry about it." The older man interrupted. "I'm glad you're here." Don smiled at his brother.  
  
"I'm glad I'm here too." Charlie replied. He actually felt better than he had in days.  
  
"Good," the older man stated. He stopped outside the conference room. "Look, I know your schedule is really tight. What with your trip tomorrow. So whatever you can come up is what we'll run with. We… I appreciate any time you can spare."  
  
Don seriously could not believe how happy he was to have his brother back in the office.  
  
"You were missed around here." Don stated. He held open the conference room's glass door.  
  
Smiling, Charlie walked into the room.  
  
Before Don shut the door, he issued a warning. "Hey, look don't overdo it okay. I had to promise Dad that I wouldn't kill you today."  
  
The smile slid off Charlie's face.  
  
"Old habits die hard. Right." Don said.  
  
"It's going to be a slow process." A hopeful sounding Charlie replied.  
  
Don did not have the heart to tell his brother that there was no way in hell that their father would ever be able to "step back" where Charlie was concerned. Alan had already called Don complaining about how Charlie was not supposed to be at the FBI building until 10.  
  
"So everything we have so far you'll find in that file." Don pointed to a lone standard office folder in the middle of the conference room table.  
  
"Okay. I'll do what I can." Charlie replied. He walked over, picked up the thin file, and flipped through the material.  
  
"That's what I'm counting on." Don said sincerely. He pushed open the glass door. "Let me know if you need anything else."  
  
Charlie already engrossed in the material merely nodded.  
  
Don, seeing that he had already lost his sibling's attention closed the weighty glass door.  
  
Charlie took a seat at the conference table and scanned the various pieces of information contained in the file.  
  
Don leaned against his desk. There was no denying that despite his enthusiasm Charlie looked tired. Don briefly wondered if he should have kept his mouth shut about the case and not involved his brother. "Dammit," Don cursed softly. He hated it when his father got into his head.  
  
He looked across the floor, into the conference room, and watched his determined looking brother tap rhythmically on the open file in his hand. Don knew right then and there that he had made the right call.  
  
Don's phone rang. He took a seat behind his desk, checked the displayed number, and let the call go to his voicemail. He would do the same thing when his cell phone vibrated in a couple of minutes.  
  
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Looking across the floor, Charlie noted that he was no longer under observation. He closed his eyes as the beating of his heart accelerated. The tired man wrote it off as merely a side effect of the energy drink he downed on the way over. "Thank God, I only bought the smaller size," Charlie thought to himself. The event was brief but still unnerving.  
  
Megan Reeves approached the conference room with a mug of coffee in one hand. The profiler was happy to see the more personable Eppes back in the office. It always made Megan smile when Charlie went off on one of his overly descriptive tangents or when the professor started one of his impromptu demonstrations using food or whatever office device happened to be within Charlie's reach.  
  
She stopped and looked in on her favorite mathematician. Charlie was seated in an office chair and staring at the barren white board. Meghan knew that the board would not remain pristine for long based on the way the mathematician's eyes were scanning its surface. There were lines of data dancing across the board that only Charlie could see. It was a process that still amazed Meghan every time she watched it unfold.  
  
Meghan would check back later to see if Charlie needed a shot of caffeine.  
  
She turned around and almost ran into Colby Granger.  
  
"Not going in to offer up, any suggestions?" Colby said with a smirk.  
  
"I thought that's why you showed up." Megan replied sarcastically.  
  
"Yeah, like there would ever be a time where I could offer Charlie any help," an amused Colby answered. He held up a plastic bottle of orange juice. "I'm supposed to go in there, get Charlie's attention, and tell him to drink this at some point."  
  
"Right now?" Meghan asked. She watched Charlie walk up to the board, place a marker on its clean surface, and start writing.  
  
"Hey, I'm just following instructions." Colby gave a nod back in Don's direction.  
  
"Better you than me. Charlie hates interruptions." Meghan patted the younger man's shoulder. "Good luck." She held the door open.  
  
Colby stepped inside the room as if he were walking into a lions den.  
  
Meghan, noted her bosses agitated look. She already understood that if Don wanted to talk; he would initiate it.  
  
Colby felt the breeze of the door as it slid silently behind him. He was uncertain how to go about getting the furiously writing man's attention. Colby received instructions that if Charlie failed to acknowledge his presence, then he should just loudly place the bottle down on the table. The agent had said jokingly that if all else fails, he would simply chuck the bottle at the back of Charlie's head.  
  
The suggestion earned him a dark stare.  
  
Colby watched as Charlie continued working. He was scribbling numbers and symbols. Every now and then Charlie would step back, and quietly survey his work. He had yet to make a correction. To Colby it all looked like hieroglyphics. What he did understand though, was that the professor would not stop until he found a way to speed up the search for the body of Debra Salazar. Which is probably why Colby was currently standing in the room and holding a bottle of OJ.  
  
Back when Colby first transferred, he held a very different opinion of Charlie. He laughed when his newest partner, David Sinclair, referred to Charlie as the team's secret weapon. When Colby first encountered the secret weapon up close and personal; he thought the mathematician was too eager-to-please. The experienced ex-soldier decided the boss's kid brother would turn out to be a major liability.  
  
Colby had never been more wrong in his life.  
  
Colby dropped the plastic bottle on the conference desk.  
  
"I'm busy," Charlie said briskly. He did not bother to turn around.  
  
"I can see that." Colby said by way of an apology. He waited to see if Charlie would put the marker down, walk over, and maybe have a quick conversation.  
  
When that did not happen Colby was disappointed. He liked his one-on-one talks with the professor.  
  
"Okay, well, there's a drink here if you need it." Colby addressed the back of Charlie Eppes' head.  
  
Colby received an almost identical dark stare as the one bestowed on him moments before.  
  
Charlie turned and went back to work.  
  
A defeated Colby walked back to the bullpen. He announced, "I tried."  
  
Don Eppes, arms folded across his chest, and once again leaning against the corner of his desk. He acknowledged the younger agent's effort. "I saw. Thanks."  
  
Don was going to make sure that his brother downed at least half of the bottle's contents before leaving the office. How he was going to make that happen was still a mystery  
  
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Charlie had worked without a break for two hours. After he wrote the last expression, he stopped, put the marker down, and started gathering up his things. He waited for Don to return from a scheduled meeting, before he explained to the entire team his theory on the correlated movements of Samuel Salazar before and after Debra Salazar's mother reported her missing.  
  
Charlie took a vast (665,000 acres) search area (commonly known as the Angeles National Park) and weeded it down to a more manageable 13.5 mile search area. The recovery team needed to concentrate on an area known as Telegraph Peak.  
  
He stressed to Don that the recovery team was going to find it tough going as "The Peak" was known for its difficult terrain. The area's rocky terrain only attracted the most seasoned rock climbers and hikers. It was Charlie's belief that Samuel Salazar (with assistance) buried the body of his wife, Debra Salazar, in one of the canyons within Telegraph Peak.  
  
Despite Don's enthusiastic words, Charlie was well aware that recovering the body of Debra Salazar was going to be a daunting task. A fact Charlie believed Samuel Salazar took into account when he settled on The Peak.  
  
Charlie said his goodbyes and headed for the elevators. He had just pushed the down button when his brother suddenly appeared by his side.  
  
"Hey, you forgot something." Don announced.  
  
Charlie did a quick recon of all his belongings. He had exactly an hour with Amita before she had to be back on campus attending a workshop.  
  
"No, I don't think so." Charlie answered.  
  
"This goes with you," Don stated. He all but pinned the untouched bottle of OJ to his brother's chest.  
  
Charlie took a small step backward. "I'm good. I'm headed to Starbucks."  
  
He was acutely aware that a roomful of tough talking experienced FBI agents were at the moment, honing in on his conversation with Don.  
  
"Stop embarrassing me," Charlie said through clinched teeth.  
  
Don turned around. All the desk bound agents went back to work and those standing around quickly scattered.  
  
"Take it," Don ordered. "I'm not kidding." He again held out the bottle.  
  
Charlie batted the bottle away. "No! What is with you?" He exclaimed.  
  
"An old bird told me that you were on shaky ground this morning." Don was about to jam the bottle in his brother's messenger bag.  
  
"Yeah, well that annoying old bird doesn't know what he's talking about." Charlie replied. He had no intention of taking the bottle. Charlie only drank pulp-free orange juice."  
  
The elevator seemed to be permanently stuck on the third floor. Frustrated, Charlie banged on the down button.  
  
"Take it." Don demanded. He thrust the bottle at Charlie.  
  
"Just throw it away." Charlie barked.  
  
Meghan approached. She had somehow acquired the role of Eppes family mediator. She had overheard a terse phone conversation that Don had with his father minutes before Charlie appeared this morning.  
  
David Sinclair walked out of the elevator and right into the latest Eppes fray. "Hey," he greeted both men. David did not get a return reply.  
  
"Time's a ticking Charlie." Don pointed out.  
  
David looked over at Meghan, who silently mouthed, "Don't ask."  
  
Charlie grabbed the bottle from his brother's hand and shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie. "Can I go now?" he stated. "Or do you need to ride down with me to make sure I get off on the right floor."  
  
"No. I'll send David down with you." Don answered sarcastically."  
  
"Well, actually I have…" David started to explain.  
  
Both Don and Charlie looked in his direction.  
  
"Okay then," David retorted. He took his hand off the elevator door.  
  
Charlie fled into the elevator.  
  
As the doors slid shut, he was already plotting his revenge.


	4. Chapter 4

Don stopped at the house shortly after one o'clock with two white takeout bags in hand. It was his way of saying "thank you." Granted, it was a cheap way but still it showed that he remembered how much Charlie loved "Sammi G's" famous subs.

Along with the takeout; he also had news on the Salazar case that he wanted to share with Charlie.

The two men sat across from each other at the dining room table; with napkins, plastic utensils, and 5 packets of mayonnaise between them.

"So I wanted to fill you in on what's going on in the Salazar case." Don announced as he grabbed three packets of mayo.

Charlie quickly claimed the last two packets. You didn't have to come all the way over here. A call would have been…"

"I figured we could talk over lunch." Don said as he threw a couple napkins in his brother's direction.

"Hey, I appreciate the gesture." Charlie feigned great interest in his roast beef sub. "What's up," he asked. Normally, he'd be all over the tasty treat, but today he just wasn't feeling it. However, seeing how his busy brother had gone out of his way to pick it up; Charlie was going to eat as much as he could.

"About thirty-five minutes after you left, we received an anonymous tip…"

"Actually," Charlie announced just as he was about to take a bite out of his sub. "There's really no such thing as an anonymous tip anymore; you remember that program I ran for…"

"Charlie, can I finish." The amused older man asked.

"Oh yeah. Sorry." Charlie apologized. He took a healthy sized bite out of the sandwich still in his hands.

"So anyway, a tip came in that we'll classify as anonymous for now (Don grinned at his brother) during which the caller stated that word on the street is that Samuel Salazar murdered his wife because she wanted out of his Meth empire and that he had two of his inner circle bury the body.

"We already theorized that scenario." Charlie put down the remaining portion of his meal. He cracked open his bottle of water and took a sip.

"Correct. The caller also said that Debra Salazar's uncle put a number on Samuel Salazar's head. The number is high enough that anyone with a firearm would be tempted to go looking for our guy." Don explained. He noticed that his brother appeared to have lost interest in the remaining half of his food.

Don added, "I'm sure right about now Salazar's wishing he had stayed locked up all nice and safe instead of taking a walk with his high-priced legal team.

"Is he still sticking to his story that his wife left him to run off with someone she met online." Charlie asked.

Don nodded in the affirmative as he munched on a slice of pickle.

"Except it's kind of hard to run off to meet your soul mate if you put your purse and car keys in a plastic trash bag and then buried it deep in a dumpster three blocks from your house." Don noted.

"If Samuel Salazar gets taken out and the recovery team comes up empty; the odds of finding Debra Salazar's body will lower significantly." Charlie explained. He went silent for a minute. "Unless you know we find this anonymous (Charlie used air quotes) caller and.."

"One problem at a time," Don stated to his overachieving sibling. "As far as we know for now old Sammi's still breathing and the recovery teams has just started the search at The Peak. We're just going to have to wait and see how it all plays out."

"Do you think they'll be able to find her?" Charlie inquired. He had done the best he could in the amount of time that he could spare.

"I don't know Charlie. I'm hoping." Don answered honestly. "So are you done?" He pointed to the leftover food in front of Charlie.

"Yeah. Sorry. I had a bagel and coffee at Starbucks." Charlie lied.

"Next time I'll call." Don offhandedly remarked as he started packing up the leftover trash.

"Well, sure. Calling would save you time." Charlie stated. He tried not to sound disappointed.

Don stopped stuffing items in one of the takeout bags. He looked at his younger brother like he had two heads.

"I meant I'll call ahead and see if you're hungry before I pick something up." Don stated.

"Oh. Right," Charlie replied. He tried not to look embarrassed and failed.

"This was just a no biggie thank you lunch. When you get back we'll do a nice 3-course sit down dinner." Don said as he gathered up napkins. "And these will be cloth."

"No rain checks." Charlie stated.

"No rain checks." Don agreed. "No excuses."

He headed for the kitchen and dumped everything in the trash. He returned to the dining room to find his brother still seated at the table; staring off into space. Don could not help but think that his brother did not look like someone hours away from a dream vacation.

Then he noticed his brother's phone open on the table.

"Dad?" Don cautiously asked. He took up a post behind the chair that Alan Eppes has always claimed. 

"Yeah, called from the middle of the cereal aisle in Whole Foods to inform me that I have an appointment with some Dr. Zonies at 4:30." Charlie replied. He stared at the phone as if it were an evil offering. "Because it's not like I don't have other things to do… like pack."

Don was left wondering "is he talking to me or the phone?"

"So I shouldn't go with - he means well or it's just dad being dad?" Don tried joking his sibling out of a rapidly approaching dark mood.

"Please don't." The young man protested.

Don wanted to help but this thing was between Charlie and Alan. It didn't help that his brother looked miserable.

"Hey," Don said carefully. "You said it yourself, "it's a work in progress"

"More like one step forward and two steps back." Charlie complained. He reached for his phone and held it in the palm of his hand.

For a brief moment, Don thought his pissed off sibling might hurl the small device. He relaxed when Charlie shoved the phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Look just go today. He'll be appeased and you can go away and not be inundated with phone calls." Don stated. "It's a win–win."

"Why should I even have to care about giving him a win." Charlie looked at his brother for affirmation.

"You don't have to, Charlie, but it makes living under the same roof with Dad a hell of a lot easier." Don commented. He had done is own fair share of trade offs during the time Charlie was attending Princeton. Those years were not all fun and games for Don.

Charlie conceded, "I'll go, but as Dylan wrote, "changes they are a coming."

"Dad's still grooving to Dylan?" The image left Don smiling.

Charlie gave his a brother an "are you kidding me look."

"Ever try putting together a multi-topic presentation while "Leopard-Skin Pillbox Hat" is loudly playing in the kitchen." Charlie questioned his brother.

"No, but I once made out to "Lay Lady Lay." I was a freshman. She was a senior." Don said straight faced.

Charlie wanted to hang on to his anger and he would have, except he made the mistake of looking at his older brother who now had a goofy grin on his face.

"Never tell me what room or on what piece of furniture." Charlie warned his smirking sibling.

"Okay," Don agreed, "But you'll be shocked at who…"

Charlie held out a hand.

"Fine. Your loss," Don replied humorously.

"I'll survive." Charlie answered seriously.

"Okay, look I have to go back. If you want I can stop back and give you a ride." Don offered. "David's always on my case to delegate so I'll let him hold down the fort."

Charlie was momentarily left speechless. He did not think that the word delegate was even in his ultra control-freak brother's vocabulary.

"Sure, yeah." Charlie stammered. "That would be great." He gave his brother a grateful smile.

"Okay. You said 4:30. I'll be back here around 3:45." Don gave a semi wave and headed towards the door.

"Thanks for the offer." Charlie called out as he headed into the kitchen.

"It's a ride Charlie. I'm not offering you one of my kidneys," Don called out from the front door. He left the house to the sound of his brother laughing in the kitchen.

"Mission accomplished," Don thought to himself. He walked out of the house.

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Alan Eppes returned from his grocery run at 3:05. He hit heavy construction traffic on the way home. He was pretty sure his carton of Rocky Road ice cream had melted. The trip itself proved non-productive since the store was out most of the sale items that Alan had wanted to purchase.

He felt bad for having told the hapless customer service representative, "When was the last time you chowed down on a rain check coupon?"

Alan was in a very bad mood when he pulled into the driveway.

The harried man struggled up the pathway with two heavy canvas bags in each hand. Charlie's car was in the driveway, so his youngest son had to be somewhere in the house.

Once Alan banged his way inside the house; he called out for Charlie, stood in the foyer, and waited. No answer. "Typical," Alan griped.

He proceeded to bang his way into the kitchen.

After he put away the last grocery item, Alan walked over to the dishwasher.

He cracked the door open and found that it still contained dirty dishes. There was a soap pod in the dispenser, but that did little to appease the angry man. Charlie had promised to turn it on. Alan slammed the door shut and hit the start button.

"Seriously," Alan complained aloud, "you can count to infinity and beyond but remembering to run the dishwasher is a task too hard to comprehend."

Charlie came in from the garage just in time to hear his father's remark. He had a pair of expensive headphones around his neck.

"I was coming in to turn it on." Charlie walked tentatively around his father and over to the dishwasher. He opened the door, placed the drinking glass he had in his hand in the top tray, and reprogrammed the machine.

"Honestly Charlie," Alan all but whined. He made a great production of folding the four cloth bags that he had used to haul in a week's worth of groceries.

"I was going to start it after I made lunch. Then Don came over with takeout and…"

"You forgot." Alan interrupted.

Charlie ignored the snarky comment.

"I didn't hear you come in. Otherwise, I would have helped with the bags." Charlie stated as his father disappeared into the laundry room.

Charlie imagined locking his father in the laundry room.

When Alan came out of the room, he saw that his son was smiling. He was not amused.

"I called for you." Alan snapped "I suppose you had these things on (he flipped the dangling headphones).

Charlie, not a fan of having his space invaded, took a step backward.

"I'll empty it when it's finished running." Charlie offered.

Alan dismissed the peace offering with a loud "hmpf".

Charlie realized in that moment that he should have paid the extra money, put up with the long lines, and headed to Cabo on Saturday.

"Empty it after you come back from being checked out by a real doctor." Alan stated.

"Checked out by a real doctor," Charlie Eppes parroted. He did not even try to hide his annoyance.

Alan should have just let the discussion die, but knowing when to keep his mouth shut has always been the older man's downfall.

"Are you aware that your insurance company sent you to a doctor who graduated in the middle of his medical school class. Or that he went to a medical school located in the Virgin Islands?" Alan asked. He stood with his hands on his hips. It was an authoritative stance that Alan knew pushed every one of his son's buttons.

"You googled my doctor?" Charlie loudly questioned his father. He needed to walk away. "I'm going upstairs."

"I always research any medical professional I have an appointment to see; it's the responsible thing to do." Alan felt it necessary to point out.

Charlie always saw red whenever his father inserted the words "responsible" or "responsibility" into a conversation.  
Seeing nothing but red, Charlie hit back.

"Don's driving me to the appointment." Charlie announced. He tried to walk past his father in order to make a dramatic exit.

Alan, however, was having none of it. He blocked his son's path.

"I told you when I called that I'd take you." A displeased Alan stated. "You were only able to get in to see Dr. Zonies today because…"

"Of your connections. Yes, I know." Charlie sarcastically replied.

"Don't try to antagonize me Charlie." Alan warned.

The two men stared at each other.

Don stopped in the middle of the dining room. "Crap," he muttered. If he had not promised to pick his brother up; he would have turned around and beat a hasty retreat. The continued silence coming from the kitchen had Don making a half turn.

"I'll be upstairs until Don gets here," Charlie gruffly announced.

He banged through the kitchen door. Charlie flew past Don in a blur of angry energy.

"Don't think for one minute that you can just dismiss me." Alan called after his fleeing son.

The second bang came from Alan as he also came barreling out of the kitchen. The swinging door had not seen this much activity since, as a newly minted teenager, Don felt the need to butt heads with everyone in the house over just about everything.

Charlie took the steps two at a time; anger fueled his climb.

Alan glanced off Don's shoulder. After spinning, Don found himself facing the swinging door.

A fast moving Alan threw a "Sorry" over his shoulder on his way to the foyer.

Don recovered his balance, dropped his head in defeat, and followed the two combatants.

"You and I are not done by a long shot!" Alan angrily yelled up the staircase.

A door slammed shut. The sound echoed throughout the house.

"Very mature." Alan bellowed. It was solely for the benefit of the upstairs door slammer.

"What am I missing?" Don wondered aloud. "He's going for the second opinion. Why are you jumping down his throat?" The statement did not go over well.

"Listen," Alan faced his oldest son. "I did not enjoy badgering the hell out of your brother."

"I think Charlie might debate that!" Don replied. He needed to stick up for Charlie. The remark earned Don the original Eppes dark stare.

"Your brother's upset because "HE NEEDED A SECOND OPINION AND I MADE IT HAPPEN." Alan said loud enough for the occupant on the second floor to over hear.

Don glanced over his father's shoulder and spotted a picture of his mother. He didn't need to earn a degree in psychology to understand why in times of illness, his father obsessed over the importance of getting a second opinion.

The sound of drawers being roughly opened and closed floated down to the first floor.

Alan grabbed onto the banister and started up the staircase.

"I'll go." Don offered.

"Thanks Donnie," A grateful (and relieved) Alan Eppes replied.

If given the choice Don would have preferred climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro in flip-flops then having to go into an enclosed space with a venting Charlie Eppes. It always struck Don as comical how people viewed his brother like he was some sort of living, breathing sweet-tempered, doe-eyed Disney character. When in reality; Charlie possessed a deadly skill for verbal evisceration.

When Don reached the second floor landing: he squared his shoulders and headed down the hallway.

He knocked on his brother's bedroom door. When he did not get a response Don knocked harder the second time.

"I'm coming in." He loudly announced before turning the doorknob.

When the cautious man walked into the room the first thing Don noticed was a travel bag on the bed. Lying haphazardly on top of the bag were a couple T-shirts, a black and a blue pair of cargo shorts, a pair of jeans, and lone pair of socks.

Don, grinned at his brother's packing attempt; traveling light would be an understatement. He walked around the bed to find Charlie sitting on the floor with his head resting up against the mattress.

"Hey," Don addressed the forlorn looking figure on the floor. "You're going to have to find a better hiding place. Dad's part tracker."

"Funny,"Charlie answered. "I was searching for a pair of sneakers."

Charlie had spotted one of his favorite white Nikes just under the bed. He had reached out to claim it.

He opened his eyes to find that he was sprawled out on the floor. Consciousness came only because someone had banged on his bedroom door.

It had slowly dawned on Charlie that he had blacked out.

"Charlie, are you okay?" Don asked. He had come in the room expecting his brother to be spitting fire not sitting on the floor looking forty shades of confused.

"Yeah," Charlie quickly answered. The subject matter needed to be changed. "What are you doing here already?"

Don leaned against a solidly built dresser. "I missed you." He announced as a matter-of-fact.

Charlie laughed at his older brother's lame attempt at humor.

Alan heard the sound of laughter and silently thanked his eldest son for the assist. The tired man headed back into the living room.

"We should get going." Don suggested. He held out a hand to help his brother up.

Charlie swatted the hand away, "Save it for when I really need it." He jokingly replied. He managed to get up by sheer will power. Once upright, Charlie made a motion for his waiting brother to go first.

Heading for the door, Don missed the moment a wobbly Charlie latched onto the bedpost to keep upright.

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At 3:45 p.m. Charlie sat in the SUV's passenger seat as Don drove him to his appointment. Something was wrong. Charlie could not pretend anymore. The last thing he wanted to hear when he got home was his father crowing "I told you so." Charlie hung his head. He knew his vacation plans were slipping away. Again.

"You okay?" Don questioned his oddly silent sibling.

"Could you please stop asking me that." Charlie asked as nicely as he could. However, it still came off sounding like he was itching for a fight.

Don decided to give his brother some space. He would wait for Charlie to initiate a conversation. It did not look to be any time soon; as his moody passenger now had his head up against the headrest, and his eyes were closed.

After a few blocks; the continued silence was getting to Don. Normally when seated in his SUV, Charlie would be yakking up a storm. Don couldn't believe that he actually missed the man's constant prattling.

"So where are you staying in Cabo?" Don decided to try and start up another conversation.

"The Cape." Charlie said. He conjured up a picture of the resort.

Don congratulated himself on actually getting an answer. He was on a roll. "A room with an ocean view?"

"Beachfront villa," Charlie answered. The picture in his head started to fade. Charlie decided that it would be really bad if he started crying right now; so he played along.

"A villa huh," Don replied. "I guess that means you get two chocolates on your pillow instead of one."

"Maybe, I don't know." Charlie quietly responded. The game was getting too hard.

Don slowed the SUV for a red light. He used the time to shoot a glance at his brother. He saw a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling in his brother's expressive eyes.

Charlie tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

"You ready to tell me what's going on?" Don patiently asked. He had not missed the fact that his brother had looked like he might cry less than a minute ago.

The cell phone that Don had laced in the center console sprang to life. It chirped and danced around the cup holder. The sound spooked both men.

The number displayed was all too familiar.

Charlie, without thinking, picked up the phone and ended the call.

"Hey!," Don yelled. He grabbed his phone just as the light turned green.

"It was just Dad." A unrepentant Charlie pointed out.

"Don't touch my phone," a deadly serious Don warned. He had expected an apology, but apparently his brother decided it was unwarranted.

The moment of closeness before the phone went off had evaporated. The two men sat in stony silence as the medical center came into sight.

Don pulled the weighty SUV into a turning lane and waited for the oncoming traffic to clear.

"Sorry," a subdued Charlie apologized.

"Okay." A calmer Don replied. He pulled the SUV into the medical center's parking lot, settled on the first available spot and killed the engine.

"You know we could just go to dinner." Charlie announced. He pointed to a restaurant adjacent to the complex. "Technically, we were here."

Don almost caved when Charlie shot him a woeful expression, but then adult reasoning took over. He said, "Look, this guy will probably give you a B12 shot and boom you're out of there."

"Wonderful," Charlie said sarcastically. He opened the SUV's door and reluctantly slid off the passenger seat.

Don doubted that his brother could move any slower without actually coming to a complete stop.

Once out of the SUV; Charlie looked toward the doctor's office and then back at Don.

"Did you want me to go in?" The surprised older man asked.

"What? God, no!" A flustered Charlie exclaimed. He quickly shut the heavy door.

Despite his brother's denial Don hurried to open his door. He had one foot on the ground when his cell phone came back to life. Don pulled his foot back in and slammed the driver's side door. The annoyed man lowered the SUV's tinted passenger window. A nervous looking Charlie had taken up a post on the cement pathway that led up to Dr. Zonies' office.

Don barked into his cell phone, "Hang on David." He yelled out the passenger window, "Charlie, give me a minute." He held up one finger as a visual aid.

Charlie nodded.

Don listened intently as David divulged that the body of Debra Salazar had been located and that a warrant had been issued for the arrest of Samuel Salazar. Colby and Meghan were working on a lead.

On the sidewalk, Charlie watched the digital display on his watch counted off a minute. He looked into the SUV and saw that Don was still deep into his phone conversation.

Charlie turned and trudged his way up to the entrance of the Dr. Zonies office.

After ending his latest call, Don looked out the passenger window to find Charlie had left. He debated about going into the doctor's office, but decided it would be better to just sit and wait.

At 5:15, Charlie appeared. Wordlessly, he opened the passenger door, and climbed into the passenger seat.

Don waited for his brother to tell him how everything went. Charlie, however, remained mute.

"Charlie, look I'm sorry. I had four calls in a row all dealing with..."

"I didn't expect you to come in." Charlie said truthfully. Once Don picked up his phone, Charlie knew he was going to have to fly solo.

"It's not like I didn't try." A defensive Don responded.

"It's fine. I went. I'm back." Charlie said. He did not offer any other details.

"So, what did this doctor say he was going to do for you," An increasingly annoyed Don inquired. "Do we have to stop at a pharmacy? Or…"

"No, everything's taken care of." Charlie answered. The folded appointment card that Charlie held tightly in his fist made its way to the back pocket of his jeans when his brother's attention was momentarily diverted by an incoming text.

"You weren't in there that long." Don questioned as he replied to a new text.

"I was the last appointment." Charlie replied. He adjusted his seat belt and waited for his brother to finish typing. " Please tell me all those calls were not from dad." He exclaimed.

"No." The older man suppressed a smile. "They were all updates." Don slid his sunglasses down in order to see his brother better. "The Recovery Team located Debra Salazar's body. Charlie, you were right on the money."

"I'm glad they were able to find her," a relieved sounding Charlie replied. In truth, the mathematician was impressed by the outcome of his hurried work.

"David is on his way to inform her mother." Don said. "Meghan and Colby are following a lead on Samuel Salazar." You came through for her mother, her family and for me, Charlie."

"I'm glad it all worked out." Charlie said simply.

Don was expecting a little more enthusiasm. He figured that despite Charlie's denial his brother felt let down. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Don opted for avoidance and began backing the solidly built SUV out of an extremely tight parking space.

"I'll drop you off back at the house." Don watched as his brother shook his head. "Okay, where then?" Charlie's many moods were starting to drive Don nuts. "I'm heading to the office." He snapped. If his brother wanted to hang out there that was fine, but Don wasn't going to take the blame for the guy having to pack at midnight.

"I"ll go for the ride. There's a bookstore about a block from your office. It has a copy of a book that I have been looking for. I'll take a car service home." Charlie explained.

Don nodded as he drove toward the medical center's exit.

He did a quick check of the time. "You know it's going to be after 6 when we get to the office are you sure this bookstore will still be open?"

Charlie looked out the passenger window.

"They are staying open until I get there." the younger man responded.

Don made a right and the SUV was soon swallowed up by rush hour traffic.

"Perks of being the esteemed Professor Charles Eppes." Don joked. He was trying his best to lighten the mood inside the SUV.

Charlie turned from the window."I didn't ask them to stay open."

Don glanced over and was surprised to see that his brother actually looked upset.

"Charlie, I know you'd never pull rank. It was just a bad joke." Don could not win.

"Yeah. A bad joke." Charlie mumbled. He turned to look out the passenger window.

Don decided that until the unpredictable individual seated next to him wanted to talk; he would just keep his mouth shut.

It was a very quiet ride to the FBI building.


	5. Chapter 5

Before Don pulled the SUV into the FBI lot he asked again if Charlie wanted to be dropped off in front of the bookstore.

"No, I'm good," Charlie replied. “I’ll walk.”

Don found an open spot almost directly in front of the building.

"Okay, suit yourself." Don commented. He popped the door locks and watched as the all-too-familiar sound startled his sibling.

"Bro, you should seriously consider switching to decaf." The amused older man joked.

"I'll switch if you switch." Charlie challenged. The "never going to happen" look his brother threw his way left Charlie smiling.

Finally seeing a smile on his brother's face had Don smiling too.

Despite the fact that Charlie knew the bookstore owners were waiting for him; Don could not help but notice that his brother did not seem to be in any hurry to get out of his SUV. In fact, Charlie seemed to have taken up residence in the passenger seat.

Don had to glance at his watch twice before Charlie took the hint and finally made a move to open the passenger door.

They parted in front of the FBI building. Don headed for the glass enclosed entrance. Charlie walked down Los Angeles Avenue.

Don watched as his slow moving sibling pulled something from the back pocket of his jeans. He figured that his beleaguered brother just got a call from a waiting Alan expecting an update.

Don felt a clap on his shoulder and turned to greet his unit's newest department head.

The two men, engaged in a work-related conversation as they entered the federal building.

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Don was seated at his desk when Colby and David returned from their take out dinner run.

The two hungry agents had walked two blocks to their favorite sandwich shop. Colby held a white takeout bag in his hand that seventy-one year old Mrs. Torre demanded that he take back to "his handsome boss." In the bag, an overstuffed sandwich that Mrs. Torre always made specifically for Don, waited to be consumed.

Colby placed the bag on Don's desk as he walked past. Don, on the phone, gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

David and Colby, seated at their desks, watched as their boss/mentor clicked a pen in an angry pattern during his phone conversation.

"Definitely not work related." Colby whispered to his partner as he rocked back in his chair.

"He only clicks that distinctive pattern during heated Alan calls." David added his own personal perspective.

Don, sensing that he had an audience, swiveled his office chair so that his back was now to his boundary resistant younger co-workers.

"He said he was going to walk to some bookstore." Don grumbled. He prayed that his father would not need the name because Do could not remember if Charlie even mentioned the name of the bookstore. The clicking of the pen continued. "I don't know, maybe he stopped to get something to eat."  


"It's about Charlie." Colby whispered confidently.  


"Thanks Sherlock." David answered sarcastically.  


Every time Don went toe to toe with his brother or father; it made both Colby and David glad that their respective family members lived a safe comfort inducing distance away from LA.

When they thought their boss was turning back in their direction, David and Colby each grabbed a folder from their inbox, opened it, spread out its contents, and proceeded to appear engrossed in both the material and their meal.

"I don't know." A frustrated Don said. He listened and then dropped the pen.

Colby and David both looked up in exactly the same time.

"I didn't go in with him." Don hesitantly revealed. He quickly moved the small phone away from his ear.

Colby and David could clearly make out the angry voice of Alan Eppes.

Don gave up the pretense that the phone call was anything but what it was; a family disagreement. He placed the cell phone back to his ear.

"Because I had to take some calls." Don answered in a tight voice. "Charlie understood." As Don listened, he tried with his free hand to loosen the cluster of knots forming at the base of his neck. It was pointless because the longer his father talked the tighter the knots felt. "My job is 24/7." The annoyed man said defensively.

Meghan, with a coffee mug in her hand, walked into and then out of the bullpen. She headed back to the break room in search of a sugar packet that was not needed.

"Yeah, I know. It's an overused excuse." Don answered. He opened his drawer and pulled out a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth. "I have no idea. He told me he would take a car service." Don chewed vigorously for a second. Then stopped. "Actually, Dad, Charlie is pretty resourceful. He's like a mathematical MacGyver." Don stated glibly.

Don heard Colby's uncontrolled snort of laughter.

Alan Eppes did not appreciate his oldest son's humor and loudly told him so.

"Okay." An annoyed Don tersely answered. He attacked his gum again. "I'm sure that he'll eventually call you back." Don had reached his limit of parental paranoia. "Maybe he met someone he knew in the bookstore and they’re talking real world applications over dinner."

David and Colby each shared a confused look.

Don caught the exchange. He looked at the men pointedly.

"Okay. I'll call you back if I hear from him." Don abruptly ended the call.

Meghan reentered the cubicle. She immediately picked up on the weird vibe flowing between David and Colby.

She wasn't the only one who felt it.

"What?" Don zeroed in on the two men.

"We saw Charlie." Colby volunteered.

"At a bookstore?" Don asked.

"No, we were right across the street waiting for the light to change." David revealed.

"And Charlie was at the far end of the building; sitting on the old retaining wall," Colby added.

"As we crossed the street, a black Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the curb and Charlie got up and walked over to it." David offered.

"David and I yelled to him," Colby picked up the story. "If he heard us Charlie didn't acknowledge it."

"I don't get it. Charlie told me he was going to walk to some bookstore about a block down." Don said more to himself than his colleagues.

Again, Colby and David looked at each other.

"What?" This time it was Meghan, asking the question. She honestly did not see what the big deal was; Charlie was a grown man. If he changed his plans - so be it. 

"The only bookstore around here was that small Mom and Pop one called "Chauncer’s, but it closed about two weeks ago." David explained.

David was equally confused. He overheard Don complain a couple days ago to Meghan that his father needed to step back and let Charlie "grow the hell up" which, given Don's current need to track down his younger brother made the man a co-enabler. David valued his life way too much to point this out to Don.

"He might have walked to the store, saw that it was closed, and then headed back to the pickup point. It's only a block and a half, but I gotta saw when I spotted Charlie he looked a little worse for wear." Colby said honestly.

A worried expression filtered cross Don's face.

Colby, David and Meghan exchanged looks.

"Look, we all know that Charlie's not a great proponent of keeping to a tight schedule. Maybe he was running behind and had to hustle back?" Meghan suggested.

"Charlie's an avid hiker." Colby felt the need to point out. "Running for a block and a half run should be a piece of cake."

"I can't remember the last time Charlie hiked.” A now pensive looking Don revealed. "It has to be at least four months, maybe longer."

"Okay, so he took a hard hit during the bronchitis and then not really exercising, so those two factors could explain why he looked the way he did." David suggested helpfully.

"I asked Charlie if the bookstore would still be open after 6 and he told me that "they were waiting for him," Don answered. "I asked if he wanted me to drop him off and he told me that he wanted to walk." He explained. "Charlie didn't go to the bookstore. He didn't get dropped off at home. He's up to something." Don was pissed that he had not picked up on his brother's shadiness earlier.

Meghan, David and Colby silently egged each other on to see who it would be to ask for more clarification.

Meghan and Colby doubled down on David; who had the distinction of knowing Don the longest.

David gave both Colby and Meghan one long stare each before he relented.

"So Don, what is it you think Charlie is up too?" David questioned. He waited for a reaction to his prying and hoped for mild irritation.

Don looked at the concerned faces of his three colleagues. He had prided himself throughout his career on his ability to keep family and work separate. Then he had the brilliant idea of bringing Charlie in on a serial killer case; family and work soon became one and the same. Right under Don's nose Charlie became the "unofficial" younger brother of his entire team. 

"The whole bronchitis thing knocked Charlie for a loop. I purposely did not bring him in on any cases. I brought him in on the Salazar case because I honestly thought he had bounced back. My Dad thinks that Charlie has been conning the two of us."

"Okay," Meghan carefully began, "Now keep in mind that I respect your dad and I like him a lot, but he does tend to be a tad over vigilant when it comes to Charlie."

"Not going to argue that fact." Don said with a small smile. "I thought he was out of line when he started bugging Charlie to get a second opinion." Don went silent and then admitted, "until I started noticing things."

He started chewing his gum again. 

"Like Charlie just sitting and staring off into space?" Colby asked.

"No that's just him being hyper focused on a thought." Don stated. He knew the agent was referring to Charlie's long stretch of producing work in the conference room.

"I guess that's what it was then." An unconvinced Colby replied. He tried to take into account the fact that Don knew his brother better than he did. 

"That's just part of Charlie's process." Meghan commented. She had been watching the mathematician prior to interacting with Colby and did not see Charlie do anything out of the ordinary.

"Okay," Colby conceded. "I guess what I thought I saw was just Charlie being Charlie then."

"What was it that you think you saw?" Don questioned the younger man. He had accepted Colby as a team member because of what Don felt was the ex-military man’s intuitive character. 

"I saw a marker almost roll out of Charlie's hand as if he had unintentionally fallen asleep."

"When?" A defensive sounding Meghan asked. She had been observing the same man. Charlie had been in deep thought. She was certain of it.

"The moment when you turned to ask me if I was going to go in to offer Charlie some advice." Colby watched as recognition hit his colleague. "We were talking and behind us McCreedy dropped that heavy box of files. When we looked back into the conference room; Charlie was standing in front of the white board."

Don ran a hand through his hair.

"Did either one of you happen to get the license plate of the Lincoln?" He addressed both Colby and David.

"Please," David good-naturedly retorted. He entered the plate number into the FBI's database and within a few seconds came up with the name and phone number of the car service. He picked up his office phone.

After introducing himself professionally to the receptionist at the Skylar Car Service; David laid it on thick and stated that he was in need of vital information for national security reasons. David wrote down the information the more-than-willing to save the world receptionist proceeded to hand over.

A smiling David Sinclair, however, did not write down the "very" single receptionist's name and phone number that she also happily provided.

Colby glanced over his partner's shoulder and entered into another database the location where the Skyler driver had dropped Charlie off and within seconds had a name, address and telephone number.

Colby, unlike his partner, was not smiling as he wrote down the information.

"What's the story?" an impatient Don Eppes questioned both men.

"Charlie got picked up by the Skylar Car Service," David explained. The pickup point was at the location where we saw Charlie.

"And the service dropped him off at the office of a Dr. Matthew Van Acker, a pulmonary specialist." Colby passed the information onto his boss who snapped it out of his hand.

"What the hell is Charlie doing sneaking off to see a lung doctor?" Don scowled at the piece of paper. He turned his attention back onto Colby. "Is the driver still there?"

"No," David answered. "According to the service's receptionist, Charlie told the driver that he wasn't sure how long he would be. He told the driver that he would call the service when he was finished."

"That's Charlie for you," Don sarcastically noted, "Always considerate of other people's feelings."

"Look Don, my college roommate went on to become a pulmonologist and she treats everything from asthma, bronchitis and... Well, uh, anything that has to do with obstructions of the lungs." Meghan had tried to be helpful and in the middle of her description realized that she had just done the complete opposite.

The sudden silence in the bullpen was soon broken by the vibrating sound of Don's cell phone. The phone rocked back and forth on the top of his desk.

Don grabbed the phone. He expected to see the digits of Charlie's phone number illuminated across the small screen. To say that he was currently pissed at his younger brother would be a gross understatement.

He looked at the phone's screen and then down at the paper in his hand.

"What's wrong?" Meghan said as she moved toward the seemingly transfixed man.

"It's the same number." Don stated. "Why the hell am I getting a call from (he lifted the paper) Dr. Van Acker's office?"

Without waiting for a single reply from his team members; Don flipped open the phone, eyed a nearby empty office, walked into it, and shut the door.

"Special Agent Don Eppes," the worried man announced into the phone he had clutched in his hand. 

"Oh, Special um Agent Eppes," a confused but pleasant warm sounding voice sounded in Don's ear. "My name is Cenobia Cortez and I am Dr. Matthew Van Acker's nurse practitioner.

Don murmured a reply. The practiced comforting voice filled his ear again.

"Can you confirm for me that you have a brother named Charles Edward Eppes?" Cenobia Cortez said matter-of-factly. "Who resides at 874 Hunter Avenue in…"

"Yes," Don quickly interrupted. "Charlie's my younger brother." Don slowly lowered himself onto the edge of a cold steel desk.

It slowly registered on Don that whenever he called a family member in order to confirm a victim’s identity it sounded suspiciously just like the sentence uttered by Cenobia Cortez.

"Mr. Eppes, you are listed as first contact for your brother in the event of a medical emergency." Cenobia stated. "I am calling to inform you that Dr. Van Acker is accompanying Charlie to the Cardiac Care Unit at St. Vincent's Hospital where he is expected to be admitted."

A/N: Hope you are enjoying the story. Reviews welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm sorry, but there has to be some kind of mistake." Don heard himself speaking the very sentence that every shocked loved one/family member said after Don relayed devastating news.

The confused man added, "My brother's twenty-eight and half years old." Don's eyes swept the main floor wishing Charlie to suddenly appear.

He desperately wanted this call to be some kind of horrible prank.

"Agent Eppes." Cenobia Cortez addressed the distressed sounding man in a softer tone of voice. "Do you need directions to…?"

"No!" Don angrily bit back. He was fighting to keep control over a situation that in his gut, Don knew was already beyond his control. Never one to go down without a fight; Don prepared for battle. "What I need to know is why a doctor who never laid eyes on my brother until today has decided that Charlie needs to be admitted to a cardiac care unit."

Meghan had been trying to read Don Eppes' body language from the moment he sequestered himself in the glass enclosed office. The profiler knew from the way his shoulders had sagged that whatever he had just been told hit him hard.

"This is not looking good." Meghan declared. Lost in her own concern, she had forgotten that she was still sharing tight quarters with David and Colby.

"Should I go in?" David asked his teammate. He couldn't think of a time when he had seen Meghan looking so worried. She had a reputation for keeping a tight lid on her emotions. There were male agents in the office who snipped when Meghan first arrived that she was the female version of Don Eppes.

David never shared this info with Meghan because he truthfully did not think he would be able to hold her back if she went for any of the male agents who had mouthed off.

"No." Meghan said as she continued her observation. "Not yet."

"Something must have been up with Charlie when David and I saw him earlier." Colby stated.

He felt like he should have taken the time to try and catch up with Charlie instead of just continuing on his way; especially seeing how he knew Charlie would have made the extra effort.

David looked equally guilty.

The three agents kept a close watch on Don as he paced the office floor.

"Current HIPAA laws states that..." The nurse practitioner started her explanation.

"Don't think for one minute that I'm going to roll over and accept that you cannot legally tell me the status of my own brother's health." Don growled into his phone. "Charlie named me as his emergency contact that should allow you to..."

"Agent Eppes," Cenobia Cortez calmly stated. "I need you to calm down and really listen to me." She waited for a beat before continuing. "The law allows me based on my best judgement to disclose protected health information. It allows me to notify the family member assigned responsibility for an individual's care of the patient's location and general condition."

"I'm sorry," Don apologized. "Can you please tell me what's going on?"

"Your brother lost consciousness shortly after arriving here in our office."

"Charlie passed out," Don replied. The relief he felt coated his words. He told himself that whatever was transpiring now was just overkill on this Dr. Van Acker's part.

Don knew his brother was probably mortified by the doctor's overreaction.

"Don," the nurse practitioner purposely used the man's first name in order to regain his attention. "Dr. Van Acker made the decision to call for an ambulance when, your brother remained unresponsive despite repeated attempts to bring him around."

"I'm not sure how much my brother told you, but for the past couple of months he has been putting in some long hours at work. Charlie is an in demand professor at CalSci who travels and lectures a lot." Don could not stop himself from saying everything that was currently in his head. "My brother has not had a long-term vacation in almost a decade and after realizing that, Charlie planned this amazing vacation back in the spring. Except, he wound up getting bronchitis. So he rescheduled it during his summer break. He worked almost non-stop in order to get everything out of the way so that he could fly out… tomorrow."

"Agent Eppes," Cenobia Cortez attempted to speak. She had been in this scenario many times before: loved ones who talked circles around her hoping to block her news.

"Charlie needs this vacation." Don had no idea why he was telling the woman this; she had no say in whether Charlie would be on that plane tomorrow.

She patiently tried again. "Mr. Eppes."

"Charlie worked himself into an exhaustive state before." Don felt instantly guilty about selling out his brother, but he wanted this woman to know about Charlie's past behavioral history. "It's a stress related coping…"

"Don," the nurse practitioner stated forcefully. "Even before the chest x-ray your brother was exhibiting signs of having breathing issues." Cenobia paused for only a second. It was a second too long.

"Charlie has had issues with anxiety in the past." Don offered as an explanation for his brother's shortness of breath. He was beginning to get aggravated because the voice in his ear did not seem to understand that Charlie had an anxiety attack." Don could not help but think, "An anxiety attack brought on by the stress of Charlie sneaking off for a chest x-ray."

When he picked Charlie up, Don intended to rip his brother a new one for being such a self-centered jerk.

Cenobia Cortez's voice broke into Don's whirling thoughts.

"Dr. Van Aker and I were discussing the results of Charlie's x-ray when he lost consciousness." Cenobia Cortez stated. The unexpected silent moment had allowed her the opportunity to worm her way back into the conversation.

"You told me that already," Don replied sharply. "I just explained how Charlie has had anxiety attacks in the past. How does having an anxiety attack warrant dragging someone to a cardiac care unit. This is just overkill on Dr. Van Acker's part."

Don heard the voice in his ear sigh heavily. Cenobia Cortez was not happy with his assessment of her boss.

"Charlie did not have an anxiety attack." Cenobia firmly stated. She had met some pretty stubborn people in her line of work, but Special Agent Don Eppes was a whole new species of stubbornness. She plowed on. "Your brother has fluid in his lungs and…"

"Right from the bronchitis, he had a couple months ago," Don interjected. He was determined to set this seriously misguided woman straight. "Then he came down with a cold a couple weeks ago, which is why our dad sent him to Dr. Zonies who I assume then referred Charlie to your office." Don decided all the information he had provided had aligned itself with the information that the nurse had intended to tell him. He added his own diagnosis. "So I'm sure thus fluid is just an accumulation from the bronchitis and the virus."

"I'm sorry but it's not." Cenobia patiently explained. "Your brother…"

"Charlie," Don corrected the voice in his ear. Every time Cenobia Cortez used the term "your brother" the news she gave Don only seemed to get worse.

"Charlie also has fluid surrounding his heart. He should have been seen by a cardiologist much earlier than today." Cenobia hoped her words sunk in.

"He has fluid around his heart?" A shaken Don managed to spit out.

"Yes." Cenobia issued a silent thank you to the man upstairs that she had managed to break through. "I need you to head to St. Vincent's. Dr. Van Acker has arranged for Charlie to be seen by a colleague, Dr. Andrew Cosmos, who is an exceptional cardiologist.

"I have to pick up my father first." Don announced. It was a stall tactic. He wanted Cenobia Cortez to tell him that there was no need for him to rush to St. Vincent's.

"Is it possible for your father to meet you at St. Vincent's?" The nurse practitioner questioned. "Charlie is going to need someone there for support." She was not surprised when the call ended abruptly.

Don checked his watch.

He pulled up his father's number.

"Dad."

Alan heard the undertone of fear in his eldest son's voice.

"Tell me." The older man said softly.

"Dr. Zonies referred Charlie to a pulmontogist. It's where he went after I dropped him off. (Don heard the older man's disgruntled sigh). This new doctor found fluid in Charlie's lungs and around his heart (this time Don heard a sharp intake of breath). Charlie's being admitted to St. Vincent's Cardiac Care Unit. He is going to be under the care of a Dr. Andrew Cosmos, a cardiologist." All his words came out in a rush. "Sit tight Dad, I am going to send a car service to come pick you up."

"I can drive myself." Alan stated firmly.

"Dad, I don't think that's a good idea."

"You tell Charlie that I will be there as soon as I can." Alan demanded.

A visibly upset Alan Eppes put an end to the call. He shot off the arm of the sofa, headed for the foyer, grabbed his car keys from the hallway table, and bolted toward the front door.

At about the very same moment across town; Don bolted for the office's glass door.

He stopped in the bullpen long enough to tell his team that he had a family emergency. Don blew past Colby, David and Meghan as they were still offering up well-meaning words of encouragement. He bypassed the elevator because it was taking too long lingering on the second floor.

The hurried man opted for the seldom used adjoining stairwell and made it down the five flights of cement stairs at a time that would have made a hurdling team proud.

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"What do we do now?" Colby wondered aloud.

"We wait for Don to call us." Meghan answered. She gave her colleague an encouraging smile and walked over to her desk.

"What about a call to Alan to offer our support?" David asked as he spun in his chair to face Meghan.

"No." Meghan patiently replied. "Whatever is going on Alan, Don and Charlie will need time to process it as a family unit."

"You know even when Don, Charlie, and Alan complain about each other you can still feel that unbelievably tight bond that they have together." David commented.

"Alan made me feel so welcome the first time I stopped by the house." Meghan fondly recalled. She smiled, remembering how at their first meeting Charlie had given her a big heartfelt smile.

"This sucks." Colby announced.

Meghan and David could only nod in agreement.

"Okay, look, we all heard Don. The higher ups want to hear that something has broken in the Anderson case. So let's give him one less thing to worry about." Meghan picked from a folder the face recognition information that Charlie had submitted.

She recalled how put off the professor sounded when he had called several days ago to check on the effectiveness of his work. Meghan could tell after she explained that Don had lowered the case's priority status and Charlie stated, "No big surprise," that Charlie had felt taken advantage of and she made a mental note to discuss it with Don but the Salazar case hit and as a team they had moved on.

"There's a witness that has just come forward that still needs to be interviewed." David pushed his chair back and stood up.

"I'll go with you for backup." Colby volunteered. Witness interviewing beat the alternative which was being stuck behind his desk waiting for a phone call.

"The witness is an 89 year-old great grandmother." David said as he grasped a set of car keys. "I think I can handle this solo."

Colby was not taking no for an answer. He was going along for the ride come hell or high water.

"Well, you never know I've seen some pretty deceptive geriatrics in my day." Colby said. He looked dead serious.

Meghan knew both men pretty well now and knew that humor in a tense situation was the pair's forte.

She looked away from her desk monitor.

"Don't encourage him." David implored. "Fine. Let's go." The agent said, trying to appear disgruntled with his partner, but in reality was happy for the company.

Meghan smiled and waved them off.

She glanced over at Don's empty desk. Meghan then refocused her attention on the information Charlie had provided.

"Colby's right." Meghan said to herself. "This sucks."

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Don's fast walk to his SUV turned into an all out sprint once he made it out of the building. The agent's career choice made him all too aware how the direction of a person's life could change in a minute's time. It was now a little more than two hours since he last spoke to Charlie. Don was trying his best not to think about the changes that could have occurred in that amount of time.

He pulled his ominous looking vehicle out of the FBI lot, turned left at the first light and headed straight for St. Vincent's.

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Charlie was feeling lightheaded. This time, however, he was going to keep that information to himself. He had made the mistake of telling the nurse in Van Acker's office that he felt "a little" dizzy and his honesty was awarded with an embarrassing ambulance ride.

Charlie regained his senses just as the vehicle's doors were being slammed shut. He tried telling the doctor that he had just met that there was nothing wrong with him that he was fine, but Van Acker appeared to be in the full Super Doc mode and would not let him up or out.

Charlie had very nearly cried when Van Acker informed him that they were on their way to St. Vincent's. Despondent, he spent the remainder of the ride to St. Vincent's trying to picture himself sitting poolside in Cabo but the image never appeared.

The passing out and ambulance ride, Charlie decided, was a karma for having not been honest with Don.

"Come on Charlie, Shake it off," the apprehensive man said quietly to himself. He had tried passing some time by charting a sequential pattern he discovered within the projected numbers on the heart monitor, but then it dawned on the mathematician that he was charting his own ever rising levels of anxiety.

Charlie needed to get the hell home.

The beleaguered man currently sported an unfashionable cabbage colored hospital cover up (with front closing snaps no less). Charlie was thankful for the fact that he still had on his jeans and socks.

He was growing annoyed waiting for his latest acquired doctor to reappear. This one was named Andrew Cosmos. Charlie remembered thinking as they made their introductions that if he had a cool last name like Cosmos; he would have definitely become an astrophysicist.

The fact that he had gone from having one doctor to three in the last 48 hours was not lost on Charlie.

He had strongly explained to Dr. Cosmos that he did not need any further testing and he certainly did not need the services of a cardiologist. Charlie's words were completely ignored.

Dr. Cosmos (who Charlie believed to be about his father's age) ordered something called a BNP blood test and an EKG which left Charlie stuck in his ugly green dress waiting for test results.

Dr. Andrew Cosmos had stated "that without significant data (having been told that his patient was a mathematician), there was no way Charlie could make a sound judgement that he did not require the services of a top-notch cardiologist."

Charlie was left without a comeback because in his world: data was everything.

After failing to get his walking papers; obtaining his cell phone became a disgruntled Charlie's next priority. He needed to make some calls or at the very least shoot off some texts.

However, his cell phone was currently sharing communal space with his sneakers, T-shirt and favorite button down shirt; all having been jammed in a white drawstring bag. The plastic bag had been plopped down on a blue plastic chair that was just out of reach. Charlie knew this because he had tried to make a grab for the bag.

In his attempt to regain his possessions; Charlie had unfortunately set off an extremely sensitive monitor when he accidentally pulled off a snap electrode that had been adhered to his chest.

The none-too-pleased staff member who had come running into his room, went about readjusting and tweaked things, with several mean-spirited looks aimed at Charlie. The nurse picked up the bag, opened a closet door, and with no words spoken directly to Charlie, hoisted the bag onto the top shelf of the closet, and walked out of the exam room.

Charlie had been informed that Don had been contacted and that his brother was in route to the hospital. Charlie was holding on to the slim hope that Don not wanting to needlessly worry Alan had not informed their father of Charlie's current whereabouts. If that was the case, then Charlie could just get Don to drop him off at home and Alan would be none the wiser.

Charlie looked longingly at the closet.

Bored, he glanced at down his ever-present watch only to remember that it too had been placed in the plastic bag. He planned on working his charm on the very next staff member who entered his room. Charlie would get his phone back. He stared at the exam room door and silently willed a staff member to appear.

A headache was beginning to make itself known so Charlie threw a forearm over his eyes. He tried to block out the offending overhead fluorescent lighting. Charlie was hungry. He theorized missing dinner was the cause for both his headache and current state of wooziness.

The door open and Charlie rejoiced. He would finally get his phone back.

"Dr. Eppes?"

"Damn," Charlie muttered. The voice belonged to the cardiologist. Charlie was not getting his phone back.

"Are you feeling light-headed? Are you experiencing any shortness of breath?" Dr. Andrew Cosmos inquired.

"No!" Charlie answered quickly. He reluctantly lowered his arm. "Are my results back yet? Can I go home?"

Andrew Cosmos looked at the pale looking young man stuck in a semi-upright position on the table and knew that Charlie was being less than truthful. "Dr. Eppes that is the discussion you and I have to have right now."

Charlie noted that Dr. Cosmos was no longer sporting his earlier "let's stay positive" smile.


	7. Chapter 7

"Call me Charlie," the worried man remarked. "There are already way too many doctors around here."

"Do you want to wait until your brother gets here? It might be best to have an extra set of ears to…" Dr. Cosmos started to explain.

"No!" Charlie announced in a voice that to his own ears sounded an octave higher than normal. "Just tell me what you came in here to discuss."

Charlie swung his legs down. He was not about to have an important conversation looking totally helpless. Charlie teetered on the edge of the exam table. The sensation he had as he started walking towards Van Acker's office building was back: the suffocating feeling. It felt exactly the same. To make matters even worse, his heart had started beating double time in his chest. Charlie felt like he was drowning even as his brain was trying to tell him that was impossible.

Charlie panicked. He managed to get out a strangled warning, "I can't breathe!"

Andrew Cosmos swiftly maneuvered his frightened patient so that Charlie's back was once again resting against the raised portion of the exam table. Andrew forcibly told Charlie to pull his legs up. When Charlie did as he was told; the cardiologist pushed the young man's head down so that Charlie's forehead rested on his knees. He placed a warm comforting hand on the back of the young man's neck.

Andrew Cosmos issued another instruction. This time, however, knowing that he had the man's attention the physician used a more soothing tone. "Focus on the sound of my voice."

Charlie's hand shot out and he grabbed onto a handful of lab coat and held on to the life line.

Andrew Cosmos bent his head so that it was just inches from his patient's ear and calmly stated, "You are getting air in."

He continued to hold on to Charlie's neck, but now with a considerably lighter touch. Andrew Cosmos reassured a far less resistant Charlie Eppes.

"Take nice long even breaths." The cardiologist patiently instructed. He felt the death grip on his lab coat fall away. "Good. Charlie. Continue focusing on your breathing."

Andrew Cosmos checked the monitors.

"You've got this." Andrew Cosmos exclaimed as he kept his eyes on the latest readouts.

Charlie managed to get his breathing under control.

Andrew Cosmos, not known for his award-winning bedside manner, gave his patient a couple "that a boy" pat's on the back. He then gave instructions for Charlie to lower his legs and to place his head back against the raised pillow.

A tired Charlie did as he was instructed.

"Charlie, when you're ready, we'll start our discussion." Andrew Cosmos stated.

"I'm ready if we are going to discuss how I am going to go home tonight and get to leave for Cabo tomorrow." Charlie responded. He was still holding out hope that everything would fall into place.

"Charlie, I would love to be able to tell you that you have clearance for both those things." Andrew Cosmos replied. "Getting you back home is our ultimate goal. Cabo is not even under consideration."

"Okay," A crushed Charlie quietly answered. He blinked back tears.

Andrew Cosmos tried not to notice that he had just stomped the stuffing out of Bambi. Instead, he focused on the readouts.

"So there's a substantial age gap between you and your brother, Don." Andrew Cosmos pulled over a stool and sat down.

"Five years" Charlie replied warily.

"I heard from a colleague that you're some sort of super smart mathematician." Andrew Cosmos stated dryly. He had no idea who Charles Edward Eppes was or how important the young man was when they were first introduced. Then Andrew was informed of his patient's seemingly vast achievements via a colleague, Dr. Brain Cho, neurosurgeon extraordinaire, who went all fanboy after Charlie was wheeled past on his way to an exam room.

"I'm pretty good." Charlie replied with a straight face.

Andrew noted the small smile that had appeared on the drawn and tired man's face.

He liked the young man's unpretentious nature. Andrew Cosmos had treated some very powerful movers and shakers during his long distinguished career. He found that 97% of the time "movers and shakers" were pretentious human beings who lived to hear about their achievements and greatness. Charlie Eppes, however, appeared to be one of the rare 3% who were truly likable human beings.

"Is your brother also in the academic field?" The older man questioned.

"Hardly." Charlie replied. A smile returned to his face. "Don has a distinguished career with the FBI. He is a Special Agent In Charge. He's the go-to-guy when they encounter tough cases." Charlie boasted.

Andrew Cosmos noted the pride in his patient's voice when talking about his sibling. There was obviously a good bond between the two brothers.

"My dad, Alan, was a city planner but he chose to retire early after my mom's cancer recurrence." My mom, Margaret, died three and a half years ago."

Charlie knew his doctor was trying to find some common ground. He had watched Don use the same technique during interviews. However, Don was a lot more subtle.

"I'm sorry about your mother, Charlie." The doctor replied earnestly. Andrew mentally noted that in this case he would be dealing with not one, but three emotionally wounded men.

"My dad was really good at what he did." Charlie said proudly, "I think he is actively considering going back to work."

Charlie did not know why he kept volunteering information. It was not like he believed the physician was actually interested in his answers. Charlie just felt the need to keep talking.

"Good for him." Andrew Cosmos honestly responded. He was doing his best to keep a professional distance from the engaging man, but the longer Charlie Eppes talked the more difficult it was becoming. Any minute now the cardiologist was afraid his patient was going to reveal the names of his childhood pets.

"You know it's true what they say about idle minds." The doctor volunteered.

"I wouldn't know," Charlie dead panned. "Mine's been on overdrive going on three hundred forty-two months now.

Andrew Cosmos knew right then and there that this case was going to cause him to lose sleep. He snorted out a laugh.

Charlie, happy to see that his doctor appeared to have human emotions, smiled.

The young man's smile gave Andrew Cosmos a small sense of relief. Charlie obviously had coping mechanisms in place and a tight family unit.

Andrew had a sinking feeling that after further testing; the rug was going to be pulled out from under Charlie, his father and brother.

"Why am I still here." Charlie asked bluntly. He was finished with the "gain his trust" exercise.

Andrew Cosmos, held up one finger, and quickly checked his phone. A text from his head nurse stated that Don Eppes was stuck in traffic and his ETA was approximately 15 minutes. When Andrew looked up; he could tell by the set look on his patient's face that Charlie was not going to wait fifteen minutes for an answer.

Andrew tried anyway.

"I think it would be beneficial to have this discussion with the added support of…"

"No." Charlie decreed.

"Your brother is expected in fifteen minutes." The physician proposed.

"I'm not waiting fifteen minutes." Charlie declared forcibly.

Despite major reservations; the cardiologist proceeded. "A key measure of a heart's pumping ability is the ejection fraction of the left ventricle. What is considered a healthy level is 60 percent."

"Alright," Charlie said quietly.

"A healthy level is 60 percent." Andrew Cosmos repeated. "Charlie your level is 25." The doctor waited for the young man to digest the information.

When Charlie nodded; Andrew Cosmos continued.

"Also, taking into consideration your declining health and the occurrence of irregular heartbeats." Andrew Cosmos added.

Charlie got stuck on the phrase "declining health." He closed his eyes.

"Charlie?" The doctor inched his stool closer to the table. "Let's take a break and wait for…"

Charlie opened his eyes and looked directly at the cardiologist. "Continue."

"I will, " Andrew Cosmos conceded. "But at any point…"

"Continue," Charlie demanded. "Please."

The cardiologist followed his patient's instructions and continued. "Based on your current health status and irregular heart beats my next step would be to perform a catheterization in order to check for coronary disease." He watched the color drain from his young patient's face.

"Charlie, I think we should take a minute to regroup and then…"

"I don't need to regroup. Continue." Charlie directed the doctor. He wanted the discussion to continue even as his determination to remain resilient was beginning to waver.

"However, I don't feel that coronary disease is what I am seeing in your case. I strongly feel that we are dealing with a specific type of myocarditis." Andrew Cosmos felt himself come under a dark stare. "Myocarditis is an inflammation of the heart muscle."

"An inflammation is usually caused by a virus." Charlie helpfully volunteered. While he did not possess a medical degree; Charlie was certain that all that was needed was the right antibiotic to help knock the virus out of his system. A feeling of relief flooded Charlie.

"The causes are wide: anything from a virus to bacteria." Andrew Cosmos answered carefully. He saw the change in his patient's demeanor and knew where the young man's thoughts had gone.

Relief for Charlie was short-lived.

Andrew Cosmos concluded that due to his rapidly declining health (the physician watched as Charlie flinched) that a heart biopsy was now a priority.

Charlie's brain was flooded with words: rapidly, declining, inflammation, irregularities, myocarditis, heart biopsy.

He put out a hand and asked the doctor to stop talking. Charlie explained that he needed time to digest all the information presented.

Andrew Cosmos gave his patient the space Chalrie requested. He pushed his stool back a couple of inches and busied himself with entering notes; all the while keeping a careful watch on his rocked patient.

The cardiologist had a lengthy conference with his long-time partner, Ana Vaidya (a noteworthy cardiothoraric surgeon) which had left Charlie "stuck" in the exam room. They had both come to the conclusion that a diagnosis of heart disease was not an easy fit for Charlie. There was something more going on.

Andrew Cosmos revealed to his partner, Ana, that it was his belief that performing an angiogram on Charlie was not going to yield the answers that Andrew needed. It was decided (after conferring with Charlie's other treating physicians and going over test results) that a biopsy would be a more viable option.

He had been informed by Dr. Van Acker that the physician had taken one look at his new patient and knew Charlie needed ER intervention. Doctor Van Acker stated that he was alarmed when Charlie informed him that he had come to the office unaccompanied. After Charlie passed out; the physician felt an obligation to accompany Charlie to the ER so that the young man had someone with him who could provide medical history should Charlie not be able to do so on his own behalf.

"What does a biopsy entail?" Charlie asked. He needed to know what to expect.

Charlie listened intently as the cardiologist explained how he would be going in through a vein in his neck in order to extract small samples of heart tissue.

It was at that moment that Charlie came to the realization he should have waited for Don to arrive. He felt weighed down by every one of the doctor's words.

Charlie angrily swiped away some tears.

"Why is this is happening." Charlie questioned the man seated in front of him.

A light pat on his knee was of little comfort. In fact, it only made the moment worse for Charlie and his hands flew up to cover his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

After Charlie was able to reign in his emotions; he looked at everything in the room except Andrew Cosmos.

"Charlie, you know how you're really good at math." Andrew Cosmos addressed his embarrassed looking patient.

"Yes," Charlie answered cautiously. He somehow managed to look directly at the doctor.

"Well, I am that good with hearts." The serious looking cardiologist stated.

"Yeah me!" Charlie exclaimed as he raised his arms in a mock cheer.

Andrew Cosmos could not help himself; he laughed.

He had yet to set up the perimeter fence that kept him from getting too close to his patients; young or old. That he had not done so was quite disconcerting to Andrew. It was the step he took right after introductions. Always. And then Charlie Eppes ended up at St. Vincent's Cardiac Care Unit.

The voice of his possibly most upsetting patient broke into Andrew Cosmos' thoughts.

"What else do I need to know?" Charlie questioned. He had started the inquiry strong, but his voice wavered toward the end.

"When the biopsy is completed I will be inserting an intra-aortic balloon pump that will help boost your blood flow." The cardiologist explained. He watched as his young patient's eyes grew wide. Andrew felt like he had just clubbed Bambi.

"When?" Charlie asked in a near whisper. He was down to one word questions.

"I'd like to try and get it done within the next hour or so." Andrew explained. He took note that Charlie had yet to blink. "It all depends on how fast we can get things arranged and moving."

Andrew could see that the young man was hanging by his fingertips. He tabled the need for a more detailed discussion to take place after the biopsy results came back. The physician sincerely hoped they would have a totally different discussion then the one Andrew felt he was going to have to give the young man.

Andrew was rushing the biopsy. He honestly feared what the results would reveal: inflammation caused by permeation of giant cells (abnormal masses produced by the fusion of macrophages). The cardiologist would wager his BMW that inflammatory cells had already caused heart muscle cell destruction and that they were behind the natural rhythm disruption in Charlie's heart.

The cardiologist feared a diagnosis of GCM (Giant Cell Myocarditis) which would be the worst result that Andrew could lay on Charlie Eppes. A rare disease that has only been reported 300 times since 1905. In Andrew's long medical career, he had only assisted on one GCM case; involving a 63 year-old man. That case had an outcome that Andrew did not want for Charlie Eppes.

Andrew refocused to find his 28 year-old patient looking at him like Charlie had no doubt that Andrew possessed the knowledge needed to correct whatever was going wrong.

Before the physician had an opportunity to reel in the young man's expectations: the exam room door swung open. The doorway was then filled with the large frame of Miles Jacobs, RN.

"Listen Mountain Man," an ominous sounding voice could be heard coming from somewhere behind Miles Jacobs. "I told you twice now," the voice growled "that the front desk cleared me to come back here."

"I'm sorry, but he wouldn't take no for an answer." Miles announced to Dr. By-the-rules Cosmos. He continued to use his bulky frame to block the doorway.

A look of sheer relief flooded Charlie Eppes' drawn face. Andrew Cosmos instantly knew the identity of the person behind the towering staff member.

"Don?" Andrew Cosmos inquired.

"Don!" A smiling Charlie answered. 

"It's okay Miles." Andrew stated.

However, Miles Jacobs did not look at all convinced, but he stepped aside anyway.

A compact dark-haired, intense looking man made his way around Miles Jacob. He gave the imposing man who had blocked his way an "I've got your number" look before entering the room.

Don Eppes failed to take notice of Andrew Cosmos; his full attention was directed at Charlie.

The intense look that Charlie received from his approaching brother instantly made him feel uneasy. He forced a smile.

Don was at first relieved to see his brother. Then he saw the smile. His brother was smiling. Charlie was not unconscious, seemingly not in pain, and definitely not hooked up to life-support. All scenarios that Don had played in his head during his drive to St. Vincent's at breakneck speed.

"What the hell Charlie?" Don announced in a tightly wound voice. He crossed the room with purposeful strides.

Andrew Cosmos wheeled his stool back in order not to get run over by an approaching Don Eppes.

"I'm sorry." Charlie automatically responded.

"Yeah, well you should be." Don snapped back.

The cool, controlled sound of his brother's voice started to wear on Charlie. He much preferred it when Don just flat out yelled. At least then Charlie could accurately gauge just how much he had pissed off his brother.

"Dad was freaking out when you didn't call." Don revealed. "He reamed me out for not knowing your precise whereabouts." The older man fumed. "In a call that my team overheard. So yeah, thanks for that too Charlie."

Don seriously wanted to place both his hands around Charlie's neck and squeeze the self-absorption out of his sibling. He let his frustration get the better of him (something that always happened during Charlie run-ins) and Don misplaced the reason why he drove at a break neck speed to St. Vincent's.

"You set me up. You lied to me. You knew that if Dad thought you were with me it would buy you time." Don fumed.

In order to not act on any improper impulses (i.e. Strangling or at the very least taking a swat at Charlie) Don folded his arms across his chest and tucked one hand over and one hand under an elbow.

The annoyed man was happy to see that his brother at least possessed enough common sense to appear remorseful because if Don had seen one moment of smugness; he would have set his hands free.

Charlie felt each rolling wave of his brother's anger. He could not think of any way to quickly smooth things out.

Don watched his brother zone-out. The irritating habit always left Don searching for words. When Charlie refocused; an exasperated Don was ready and waiting.

"Back? Good." Don crossly exclaimed. "Dammit, Charlie I almost hung up on the call from Van Acker's office." Don jammed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. He could not believe his brother was looking at him like he had morphed into the Big Bad Wolf.

"For a second I thought you were playing some freaking bad joke on me." Don huffed.

"I have never played mean-spirited jokes on you," Charlie replied. In giving his answer; Charlie unintentionally managed to sound highly insulted.

For the life of him; Charlie could not figure out why his brother looked like he wanted to pop him in the face.

If he had been able to stick to his carefully crafted timeline this whole scene with Don could have been avoided.

There were pronounced storm clouds swirling in his brother's dark eyes. A sure sign that forgiveness was not coming Charlie's way any time soon.

Andrew Cosmos slowly inched his way toward the two men. In the physician's eyes the older brother was being unreasonable. Andrew felt he had sat quiet long enough.

The doctor opened his mouth to speak.

"Right," Don replied mockingly. "Because lying and sneaking behind my back was so much more respectful."

Andrew was now seconds away from throwing Don Eppes out of the room.

The posted numbers ticked up significantly.

Throughout his career Andrew had seen many a family encounter start and end with physical violence.

"I'm sorry." Charlie apologized for the second time. He quickly shot Andrew Cosmos a look that stopped the physician in his tracks. Charlie turned his full attention back to his older brother.

Charlie got it; he had messed up, but he was finished with his brother having to call him out on it.

"I know I screwed up Don. My sole intention, though was to keep you and Dad from having to worry unnecessarily." Charlie paused to take a much needed breath. He tried to not think about how just speaking two sentences stole away his breath. It was suddenly important to Charlie that his brother understand that he had in fact thought things through.

"In theory, it all would have worked out and..." Charlie began.

"Holy crap, Charlie!" Don interrupted. "Why didn't you tell me there was a theory. That makes everything you did today, perfectly clear." Don sarcastically drilled his younger brother.

Charlie's actions had caused Don a major amount of embarrassment. A prideful man; Don hated to be embarrassed.

Hands on hips; Don waited for his brother's indignant reply.

However, the moment Charlie went to go on the offense; his heart constricted painfully. To say that it scared the hell out of Charlie was an understatement.

Charlie looked to Andrew Cosmos for help.

The cardiologist shot off his stool.

Don saw a pained expression filter across his brother's face. He witnessed Charlie putting a hand to the center of his chest.

The reality of why Don needed to be at St. Vincent's (the one that he had pushed away) came back to the forefront with a vengeance.

"Andrew Cosmos." The physician announced as he rushed past Don Eppes. "Charlie's cardiologist." He purposely positioned himself in front of Charlie as to block the young man's view.

"Charlie, I let you have input, but from here on out it's my show. I am scheduling Lanoxin®. I need you to try and relax." Andrew walked over to the wall phone, but not without first giving Don Eppes a very stern look.

"Lanoxin®. What is that prescribed for?" Don called after the doctor. He naively thought it had to be an anti-anxiety medication. Obviously the doctor thought he might push Charlie into an anxiety attack which Don deduced explained away the doctor's put off attitude. The doctor knew next to nothing about his relationship with Charlie. Don would find an appropriate time to set old Cosmos straight.

Andrew decided the overly opinionated man needed to know the seriousness of his brother's situation. He held the phone's receiver away from his ear, and announced:Lanoxin® increases left ventricular ejection fraction and improves heart failure symptoms.

Don was stunned into silence. It felt like forever before he found the ability to speak again.

He turned back to his kid brother. The brother that he had been only too happy to put in his place.

"What is he talking about Charlie?" Don managed to squeak out. He needed Charlie to tell him that his doctor was over-reacting.

Charlie, however, had an urgent question of his own.

"Where's Dad?" Charlie asked. He thought his dad should have been here by now. Charlie really wanted to see his dad.

"He's not here yet." Don responded. The fight had gone out of Don. He wanted to tell his brother a thousand times over how sorry he was for being such an ass. "Dad's stuck behind an MVA on the 101. He'll be here soon."

Andrew completed his call and returned to his patient. The change in the man's attitude was a welcome relief to the physician.

"Mr. Eppes perhaps you should wait for your father, where he'll be able to spot you easily." Andrew Cosmos waited for the older man to take the hint.

Don did not move.

"Charlie, I'm sorry for coming on so strong." Don apologized. He had no apologies for the doctor. Don was not a fan.

"It's okay." Charlie automatically answered.

Andrew Cosmos (a younger sibling himself) wanted to tell Charlie that no it was not okay to let an older sibling chew you out for their own benefit. He witnessed Don Eppes reach out and latch onto two of his younger brother's fingers.

Andrew thought that there might be a slight chance that he had misjudged Don Eppes. The jury, however, was still out.

The room went oddly silent when a staff member came in to administer the Lanoxin®.

Charlie noticeably flinched when the staff member jabbed him with what felt like a small harpoon.

Don gave Charlie an encouraging smile.

It did nothing to help with the pain at the injection site, but Charlie appreciated his brother's gesture.

Andrew Cosmos walked with the staff member to the door; giving her instructions he wanted to see implemented.

"Is Lanoxin® the only treatment Charlie needs for now?" A worried Don inquired of the cardiologist. The expression on the older man's face unsettled Don.

"I have to undergo a heart biopsy." Charlie announced. He felt the need to rescue his brother from being overwhelmed with details (like Charlie had been earlier).

Don paled. Charlie immediately tried to make the procedure sound less ominous. "He (Charlie pointed to Andrew Cosmos) is just taking a small sample."

He held up his thumb and forefinger and allowed a sliver of light to show through. Charlie was a firm believer in the use of visual aids as a teaching tool.

The fragile reconstructed foundation of Don's world shifted ever so slightly.

After its first direct hit; Don accepted the news of his mother's declining health with stoic acceptance (as if he had any other choice). When she died the foundation very nearly collapsed.

Don was not going to allow another direct hit to occur.

He strode over to the door, grabbed the handle, and yanked it open. He roughly announced. "Charlie, let's go."

The unanticipated request left Charlie confused. He actually thought, "Go where?"

The off-the-wall request angered Andrew Cosmos.

The physician watched in amazement as his severely ill patient looked as if he was actually contemplating how he might be able make it off the exam table.

Andrew pointed a long finger at Charlie and barked, "Do not move."

Charlie froze. He was thankful for the intervention.

Andrew Cosmos hustled over to the waiting Don Eppes. The physician was for once grateful for the extra three inches and forty odd pounds he had on the younger man. Don Eppes looked like a man not familiar with having to take "no" for an answer.

Andrew Cosmos looked down and in a low voice stated, "If you ask again: we both know he'll try." The physician paused. "He's going to fail. Don't do that to him."

Don's hand slid off the door knob. He looked past the doctor's shoulder. Charlie was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"I'm sorry." Don hoarsely whispered. The lump lodged in his throat was making it impossible to say anything else.

"Let's go in the hallway and talk." Andrew patiently suggested.

Don could only manage a nod of his head.

"Charlie," Andrew Cosmos called out, "Your brother and I are going to leave for a couple minutes. A staff member will be coming in shortly to assist you."

A worn-out Charlie gave the physician a thumbs up.

Don Eppes was once again an unmovable force. He blocked the doorway.

"Is my brother in pain?" Don questioned in a hostile sounding whisper.

Andrew Cosmos calmly offered the agitated man an explanation, "Charlie only opted for a light pain medication. To help take the edge off. She'll make sure that he is more comfortable."

"My brother was sitting there in pain? Why the hell didn't you give it to him?" A bewildered Don questioned.

A petite staff member wormed her way around the two men.

"Because Charlie made it abundantly clear that he did not want to take anything stronger until he spoke to either you or his father. Trust me, I was not going to allow him to wait for your father." Andrew Cosmos answered.

Andrew started to steer Don Eppes into the hallway.

"Don!" Charlie suddenly called out.

Andrew Cosmos watched the smaller man straighten his frame before turning to face his brother.

"Yeah, Charlie," Don answered.

"I'm going to be moved out of here soon." Charlie commented. He was convinced that he was not going to see his father.

He loved his old man, but Charlie was not about to go through a heart biopsy without the aid of some heavy duty meds.

"Charlie," Don comfortingly replied. "I'll bring Dad to wherever you land. I promise bud."

"Okay," Charlie replied.

He managed a smile for his latest caregiver. Charlie was up to half a football team in medical personnel. The numbers were adding up and not in a good way for the exhausted man.

Don made it out into the hallway, but not before taking one more look at his brother as Andrew Cosmos closed the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Out in the hallway, with the door to Charlie's exam room closed, Don sagged against a wall and tried to organize his thoughts; his mind was racing.

Andrew Cosmos stood close by. He looked over several new sheets of paper in a file that had been handed to him. The paperwork related to the scheduled cardiac biopsy.

As Andrew scanned the papers; the physician kept a close watch on Don Eppes. The man looked as if he might slide down the wall at any moment.

The growing Charlie Eppes patient file contained one important paper that still needed a patient signature. Andrew flipped the paper over and scribbled a note that read: Ana, please obtain signature." He made his note the first item in the expanding file. The physician passed the file over to a hovering staff member.

"Mr. Eppes," Andrew Cosmos announced as he glanced at his watch.

Time was becoming a concern.

"Don," A still slumped Don Eppes replied.

"Don," Andrew answered patiently. "My office is just down the hall. We can have our discussion there. The staff will be coming in to coordinate moving Charlie. As I explained to your brother the unit has been extremely busy all day, which unfortunately has left Charlie in a holding pattern and waiting for an available bed."

Andrew knew he had to get Don Eppes moving because if the he was still out in the hallway when Charlie was brought out; the man would without hesitation follow his brother.

"My office is this way." The cardiologist persisted. A strong will to live kept Andrew Cosmos from latching onto the reluctant looking man's arm.

Just when it looked as if the stalled Don Eppes might actually be contemplating moving; a light buzzing sound from his cell phone kept him stationary.

A frustrated Andrew sighed heavily.

Andrew Cosmos hated cell phones. They had become the bane of his existence. He sorely missed the good old days of pagers. At least when Andrew still had his pager; he could hurriedly woof down the rest of a sandwich or down the last remnants of a coffee while in search of a landline phone.

Another advancement that Andrew Cosmos hated: electronic medical records. The hospital was in the midst of going paperless.

First, they took away his pager and now they coming for his paper files.

On the advice of some overly educated efficiency expert the powers-that-be who signed his paycheck recently voted to implement an electronic medical record system. Andrew boycotted all the mandatory EMR system seminars. It soon became apparent that he was leading a protest of one.

Andrew Cosmos was an extremely smart man; He knew he was battling windmills like some modern day Don Quixote. Andrew had gone through the hell of medical school, lived on air and no sleep during residency, and sacrificed many a loving relationship in his single-minded quest to become a stellar cardiologist. He had not gone through all that to spend the twilight years of his career as a part-time data entry clerk.

Don began to compose a response.

Andrew accepted yet another clipboard from a staff member.

Of all the big-headed ego-driven doctor's at St. Vincent's there was no one with a higher opinion of themselves than Andrew Jameson Cosmos; this being physician assistant Kelly Hunt's opinion. She waited for the doctor because Andrew Jameson Cosmos always issued further instructions. On a good night the man only felt like a thorn in her side on a bad day: Kelly wanted to deck By-the-book Cosmos.

The PA could not wait for Andrew Jameson Cosmos to retire.

It was a sentiment shared by almost the entire staff on the Cardiac Care Unit.

Andrew slowly flipped through the latest stack of papers. He addressed the PA, "find out what or who is responsible for holding up moving Professor Eppes into his own room. I know for a fact that #08 is available. If some first-year is trying to steal that room from under me; I will take heads. Get on it. This situation is totally unacceptable." Andrew grumbled. He did not care one iota that finding an open bed was not part of a PA's responsibilities.

Kelly acknowledged the request/order with a tight smile. She had worked alongside Andrew Cosmos long enough to know any objection on her part would lead to one of the doctor's "when I started at St. Vincent's" sermons.

"I told Professor Eppes he would be in a private room an hour ago. Dr. Vaidya wants to speak to him in a less stressful environment. Move on getting him situated in #08. After the Vaidya discussion is completed begin the process of prepping Professor Eppes for the cardiac biopsy." Andrew handed the clipboard back to his PA. He ignored Kelly Hunt's disgruntled look.

Andrew Cosmos turned his attention back to Don Eppes.

"My Dad is on his way up." Don announced.

"Excellent," Andrew stated. "The three of us will have a discussion."

"My father wants to see Charlie as soon as he gets off the elevator." Don forewarned the physician.

"Not possible." Andrew Cosmos answered. He continued in a measured tone. "I will, however, make sure that your father gets to see Charlie before…"

"Not acceptable," Don interrupted. "My father is hell bent on seeing Charlie now."

"Then I suppose I should meet your father at the..." Andrew his explanation.

"My father's name is Alan." Don cut in. He was finished trying to warn Cosmos that he was about to get run over.

"Right. Alan," Andrew responded, and without another word headed off in the direction of the elevators with Don Eppes as his shadow.

Don and Andrew arrived at the bank of elevators just as one of the doors slid open and Alan Eppes emerged. He disentangled himself from a group of four equally worried looking individuals.

Don watched as his father glanced around in order to take stock of his surroundings.

"Dad," Don called out. The sound of his voice instantly gained his father's attention.

"Donnie?" Alan Eppes questioned. Within that one word was everything that Alan wanted to know about Charlie's situation.

The look of sadness that swept across his eldest son's face took Alan's breath away. He opened his arms.

Don walked into his father's embrace without hesitation.

"It's going to be okay," Alan said softly into his son's ear. The two men clung to each other. Alan Eppes took notice of Andrew Cosmos. He informed the white lab coated man, "And you are?"

"Andrew Cosmos." Andrew stated. "Professor Eppes' cardiologist."

Don stood shoulder to shoulder with his father.

"I refer to my son as Charlie." Alan cooly remarked. "Walk with me to his room and inform me as to why my son needs the services of a cardiologist."

Don looked pointedly at Andrew Cosmos.

Andrew ignored the younger man's "I told you so" expression.

The cardiologist needed a new game plan. He looked at Don Eppes and then at Alan Eppes and realized that the two men were like two peas in a pod. Andrew was definitely out numbered.

"Where can I find Charlie?" Alan asked again. This time there was no pleasantry to his tone.

"You have questions that need answers Mr. Eppes (it was at that point that Andrew purposely walked away from the bank of elevators) and I will answer all of them (he heard the two men eventually follow) in my office. After which there will be time for you to visit with Charlie."

Alan stopped abruptly when the realization hit that the doctor was not leading him to Charlie.

Don latched onto his father's elbow and quietly said, "Dad, I promise you'll get to see Charlie, but first we need to hear what's going on."

A none-too-pleased Alan Eppes started moving again.

Don wanted to be with his brother, but could not justify leaving his father alone when Andrew Cosmos informed Alan that Charlie needed a biopsy done on his heart.

Andrew Cosmos reached his office door and grabbed the handle.

"I expect to see my son when we are finished." Alan briskly stated as he headed into the office.

Andrew Cosmos cautiously shepherded Don Eppes into his spacious office and close the door. He watched as Don Eppes pulled out one of the high backed chairs (in front of Andrew's desk) for his father and then settle into a chair right next to Alan Eppes. Andrew Cosmos made himself comfortable in to his well-worn leather chair.

"I think we can all agree that Charlie is struggling health-wise." Andrew Cosmos commented. He had the undivided attention of Alan and Don Eppes.

"Back in April, Charlie came down with a bad case of bronchitis. A gift from one of his students." Alan helpfully volunteered. "He an instructor of Applied Mathematics at CalSci." He added proudly. "Almost as soon as he bounced back from the bronchitis Charlie came down with a stubborn chest cold. These two illnesses took a lot out of him and Charlie's been trying to get back to normal ever since."

"Alan, how long has Charlie been struggling to get back to normal?" Andrew inquired. He leaned forward in his chair waiting for the man's answer.

"He had two infections not the plague." Don stated. "He worked with me on a case and did an amazing job. I mean yeah he looked tired, but other than that Charlie was fine."

Alan Eppes looked down at his clasped hands.

"Was Charlie as your eldest son stated fine during this productive period?" Andrew Cosmos once again addressed Alan Eppes.

Don shot the physician a look that for all intents and purposes should have reduced Andrew Cosmos to ash.

"Charlie pretended for a long time that everything was okay." Alan answered honestly. "That he was back on track.

"So he was struggling more?" Andrew asked. He watched Alan Eppes nod his head. "Can you give me a time frame?"

"Six weeks." Alan offered. "It was during that period of time that Charlie fell asleep at an end-of-the-year departmental meeting. That's when I decided to take matters into my own hands."

"Charlie told you that happened." A surprised Don asked. Charlie had never mentioned the incident.

"No, of course not!" Alan exclaimed. "Larry called me. He was very concerned."

Andrew Cosmos cleared his throat.

Alan Eppes ignored the none-too-subtle hint and continued his discussion with Don.

"Your brother's continual total disregard for his health was driving me up a wall. It's what fueled my dishwasher meltdown." Alan admitted. "Charlie kept telling me to stop worrying that he would rest up in Cabo."

"That's not going to happen." Andrew dryly commented.

For a brief moment Alan had forgotten that he had an audience.

Andrew ignored the pointed looks aimed in his direction. He continued, "Charlie was run down."

"Not run down. Charlie is exhausted. Every time I turned around, he was sleeping. I gave up counting the times he sat on the sofa with the intent of watching something on TV and then fell asleep within five minutes. He fell asleep on three separate occasions in his favorite chair with a book in his lap, and last Thursday he fell asleep at the dining room table in the middle of my giving him a rundown on Tom Chancy's newest book."

It things did not sound so frightening Don would have laughed out loud at the image of Charlie falling asleep as Alan droned on about his latest book club best seller.

Andrew noted a brief moment of happiness in Don Eppes' eyes and then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Gentlemen, I am going to tell you what I have already discussed with Charlie as he has given me permission to do so." Andrew stated. "Time is getting tight so I'll begin."

Alan would remember later thinking at that moment, "What's the big rush?"

Andrew Cosmos explained about the key measure of a heart's pumping ability and the 60/25 percentage. Andrew mentioned the steady decline of Charlie's health, the recurring irregular heartbeat, and his belief that Charlie had a type of myocarditis. He explained how myocarditis caused inflammation of the heart muscle. Andrew expanded on how a catheterization had been ruled out and that he would instead perform a cardiac biopsy (Andrew watched Don reach out and take his father's hand as the older man sucked in breathe).

Andrew Cosmos paused for a moment. When the two quiet men offered up no questions, he resumed his discussion.

He touched on how the major concern right now was to increase of blood flow to Charlie's heart and how that would be accomplished by implanting an intra-aortic balloon pump concurrent with the cardiac biopsy.

"You're going to take a sample from my son's heart and also implant a pump?." A visibly stunned Alan Eppes managed to question the doctor. He wanted to make sure he had heard the man correctly.

Don took a second hit when it dawned on him that Charlie had purposely kept him in the dark in regards to the pump. He had no doubts that Charlie had gone in protective mode (knowing that just hearing the word biopsy would rock Don) instead of sharing his fear.

Don looked across the room. He stared out the window. Don did not want his father or Andrew Cosmos to see that he was upset.

"Is there any other way to rule out this myocarditis?" Alan inquired. "Maybe something less invasive? Is there a medication that helps increase blood flow?"

"The biopsy and placement of the intra-aortic balloon pump is the only option, Alan." Andrew Cosmos answered truthfully.

"Please tell me that while you're doing these two things that there's no chance that my son could have a heart attack." Alan all but pleaded. Even as the words were leaving his mouth, Alan could not believe he was speaking them.

"Preventive measures are in place." Andrew calmly replied.

Don, with planted feet, roughly pushed his chair back. He managed to move the chair back at least an inch.

Alan was startled by the scraping noise the chair had made. He quickly looked in his son's direction.

Andrew thought that Don Eppes was contemplating bolting out of the room. However, the man remained seated next to his father.

"The more concerning issue right now is the invasion of Charlie's heart by abnormal cells. The cardiac biopsy will help determine the exact type of cells."

Alan Eppes grabbed his son's hand.

Andrew had already discussed the possibility of GCM with his colleague Ana Vaidya (a warrior when it came to cardiothoriac surgery). It was agreed that Ana would discuss the possibility of GCM with Charlie and obtain his signature on a consent form; while Andrew brought his immediate family members up-to-speed.

"What about giving him super antibiotics." Don suggested. He knew that he was reaching for straws.

"I wish it was that easy, Don." Andrew patiently stated.

"Are you positive that all of the issues that Charlie has been having lately are because of these abnormal cells?" Alan questioned. He could not feel his hands or feet. It was like they had gone numb with fear.

He wanted to run out of the room. Except, Alan knew he could not leave Don holding the bag. He had done that once already to his eldest son. Alan stayed in his chair.

Andrew gave each man time to resurface from the wave of uncertainty that just hit them.

He then reviewed Charlie's recent chest x-ray and how it revealed acute pulmonary edema. He spoke about the ECG given to Charlie showed a right branch block, anterior hemi block of the right branch, and 1st degree AV block. Andrew reviewed the electrocardiogram results that showed a non-dilated left ventricle with a severely depressed ejection fraction of 25%.

"What does all that mean in layman's terms?" Don asked quietly. He was truly afraid to hear the doctor's answer.

"Charlie's heart has weakened to the point where it now has limited ability to circulate blood to his lungs and the rest of his body. This has led to fluid buildup in his heart, lungs and various body tissues. In Charlie's case all four chambers of his heart are affected and…"

"But… I don't… How… How did Charlie get to this place in less than 48 hours?" A heartsick Alan Eppes exclaimed.

"From all the physician notes, test, and my talk with Charlie it appears that he has been symptomatic for at least five months. The bout with bronchitis and then the chest infection threw shade on the real issue." Andrew answered honestly.

"If things have gotten this bad… then… What are you doing to help my brother? It can't be just the biopsy and the pump." Don demanded. He was fighting to stay in control. Falling apart in front of his father was not an option.

"Charlie is on a diuretic, to help deal with the fluid issue, a Dobutamine IV drip, for short-term treatment of the cardiac decompensation, and an arterial dilator that will help widen the blood vessels and decrease vascular resistance and increase blood flow."

"Can we just slow down to take stock?" Alan asked. He added, "Don will tell you that Charlie would tell us that we need to take a good look at what's going on from every angle before making major decisions."

Alan managed to give his oldest son a weak smile before turning his attention back to Andrew Cosmos.

"Charlie is in end stage heart failure." Andrew stated with great care. "There are no other angles. I'm sorry."

Andrew watched both men carefully. He was especially concerned for Alan Eppes. He decided to put off discussing the possibility of a GCM diagnosis until after the biopsy. He had done enough damage for now to Alan and Don Eppes.

While the two men sat in stunned silence; Andrew read a text from his partner that notified him that she had obtained Charlie's signature on the consent form which meant that Andrew could now rush through a request that his critically ill patient be evaluated for a heart transplant.

The cardiologist had already made the rare decision to request the evaluation before he received the biopsy results; so sure he was looking at his second case of GCM.

Andrew needed to prepare for Charlie's biopsy. He pushed his chair back expecting to give the two men some time alone.

"I know my son." Alan suddenly announced. "Charlie would never just accept your word before going under not one but two procedures. He would want all the facts presented to him. He would want to know what data was used to come to your conclusion and Charlie would sure as hell be all over the abnormal cell theory."

"Charlie would insist on having all the data: the good and the bad." Don volunteered.

The two men did know their loved one." Andrew mused. He had in fact received a message earlier from a staff member informing him that Charlie wanted more clarification before undergoing the two procedures. It was decided that Andrew would confer with Alan and Don while Ana would have a more in depth conversation with Charlie Eppes: as it would be Ana Vaidya, who would be performing any further surgeries (if they were deemed necessary).

Alan did not like what he read on the cardiologist's face.

"I want to know right now everything that is being discussed with my son while you are here talking to us." Alan demanded.

In a moment of divine intervention; the phone rang on Andrew's desk.

Charlie was settled in Room #08. Dr. Vaidya was wrapping up her discussion. Andrew was informed that Charlie wanted his family brought up to speed and that he wanted to see his father."

Andrew thanked Kelly Hunt and requested that Charlie not be prepped for his biopsy until he received a ten minute visit from his father.

Andrew Cosmos concluded his phone call. The physician returned his attention to Alan and Don Eppes.

"I have Charlie's permission to lay all my cards on the table." Andrew  
announced.  
He then proceeded to blow apart the world of Alan and Don Eppes.


	10. Chapter 10

Don leaned forward, eyes shut, head down, both hands covering his face. An angry "no, dammit" escaped his lips. His world was shifting again and just like before; Don was powerless to stop it from happening.

Alan, hung his head, and closed his eyes. He could not fathom how this was allowed to happen to his son. Alan used shaking hands to wipe away his tears. He took a deep breath and then locked eyes with Andrew Cosmos.

"Take me to see my son." Alan demanded.

"At the moment, my colleague, Ana Vaidya, is completing her consultation with Charlie regarding the biopsy and our GCM concerns." Andrew explained.

Don suddenly bolted upright in his chair. All his attention was now on Andrew Cosmos.

"Who the hell… we should be having this conversation together as a family." Don roared.

"He's right. We should be with Charlie." An even angrier Alan exclaimed. "He has to be wondering where the hell Don and I are."

"It was Charlie who made the decision that I bring his family members up to speed while he and Dr. Vaidya conferred." Andrew cautiously explained.

Andrew had tried to persuade Charlie to change his mind, but the man was adamant; if a more in depth discussion was needed; Charlie wanted his discussion to be private.

Andrew Cosmos relented only because Ana with her much warmer personality was the right person to discuss the good and the bad of his unique situation with Charlie.

"Charlie obviously had no idea how serious his situation was when he made that decision. You, however, had some idea." Alan heatedly countered.

"I used every argument at my disposal to try to get your son to change his mind." Andrew responded. "We were at an impasse and…"

"Charlie waited you out." Don stated. He after all, possessed his own experiences with his younger brother's "wait until they crumple" strategy.

"He did," the cardiologist guiltily admitted. Andrew watched the younger man briefly smile.

An uneasy silence settled between the three men.

A scary thought occurred to Alan Eppes. He was almost too afraid to give it a voice. He moved to the edge of his chair.

"You said your colleague, Ana Vaidya, is a cardiothoratic surgeon." Alan guardedly addressed Andrew Cosmos.

Don turned to look at his father.

"Yes, Ana Vaidya, performs both surgical and non-invasive operations to treat any conditions that affect a patient's heart, lungs, esophagus and organs inside the chest as well as the tissue, muscle and bone that make up the chest cavity." Andrew volunteered. He could tell by the set look on Alan Eppes' face that his blanket statement would not put an end to the man's questions.

"So this Ana. Your colleague. She will be the one to handle Charlie's next level of treatment." Alan said.

"Yes." Andrew responded.

Don took the lead from his father.

"Which means you will only be handling the biopsy and inserting the pump."

"Correct."

"She's taking over if there is a diagnosis of GCM." Don stated.

Andrew needed to put an end to this line of questioning (more like interrogation where the youngest Eppes was concerned) until he received word that Ana had spoken fully to Charlie Eppes.

"It will be a team effort." Andrew Cosmos answered. He looked nervously at the phone on his desk.

Don did not like what he was hearing. Andrew Cosmos was purposely being vague. He looked at his father for a sign that Alan wanted him to continue to press the cardiologist. Alan gave him a slight nod.

"What type of treatments are Dr. Vaidya's specialty? What is she called in to handle." Don questioned.

Andrew had been expecting a whole different question from the man and was momentarily thrown. He recovered and responded:

"As an exemplary cardiothoratic surgeon Ana is often called in for: heart valve repair or replacement, pacemaker implantation or implantable cardioverter defibrillator, open-heart surgery, off-pump heart surgery, angioplasty and vein and artery grafts."

Andrew deliberately left out the one superior skill that separated Ana from almost all the other area cardiothoratic surgeons.

All three men jumped when the phone on Andrew's desk suddenly sprung to life. Dr. Cosmos picked up the small device; he talked to whoever had tracked him down and then put the phone back on its docking station. Andrew was informed that Ana had concluded her discussion with Charlie Eppes. The cardiologist now had permission (from his patient) to fill his family in on all the subject matter that Ana had discussed with Charlie.

Alan picked up where Don left off. He needed an answer to a question that he did not want his eldest son to have to ask.

"Except it's your belief that none of the treatments you just listed will work for Charlie because at this point the GCM cells have already severely damaged my son's heart." An anxious Alan Eppes pointed out. 

"Please don't respond by saying correct. Just tell us what treatment will work for Charlie."

"If the GCM is as invasive as Dr. Vaidya and I believe that it is, then the only viable treatment that we can implement for Charlie to prolong his life would be a heart transplant." Andrew stated.

The two men first stared blankly at Andrew and then at each other.

All three men sat unmoving and stone silent.

Stunned, Alan wanted to tell Don to get up and help him find Charlie. Together the three of them would get the hell out of St. Vincent's and never look back. Except his brain had shut down and there was a roaring in his ears.

A concerned Andrew Cosmos asked Alan Eppes if he needed a glass of water.

Alan somehow made his hand move and waved away the offer. He did not want Andrew Cosmos anywhere near him right now. The man had just blown his world apart.

Don slumped forward in his chair and stared a hole into the carpet. He could not stop thinking about how Charlie had stood waiting on the sidewalk outside of Van Acker's office for him.

Andrew Cosmos wanted to be wrong about what he felt the biopsy would reveal. He would sooner walk into Charlie's room results in hand and tell the kid "Oops, sorry I over-reacted" and have Don Eppes punch him in the face than to have the biopsy results come back showing the presence of GCM.

A shaky voice weaved its way into Andrew's thoughts.

"Are we rushing things? I mean the biopsy has not even been performed and we are sitting here talking about a heart transplant being Charlie's only option." Alan chocked out the last part of the sentence.

"I understand your concern, Alan." Andrew said patiently. "As I stated before; Charlie has been symptomatic for a long period of time. It was during that protracted time span where a series of non-evasive treatment could have been introduced. If by some slim chance, the biopsy does not reveal GCM: the damage done to Charlie's heart will still have to be addressed."

Alan Eppes sadly realized that the best outcome he could wish for his son was for Charlie to just have congestive heart failure. "My god," the emotionally drained man whispered.

Don had no words of comfort that would take away his father's pain and there was nothing he could do to stop what was happening to his brother. Useless. Don felt useless.

Time was becoming an issue. Andrew did not want to rush the men out, especially in their current state, but he had a biopsy to perform.

"Charlie is waiting for you." Andrew addressed Alan.

Alan knew that was his clue to get out of his chair, but he felt weighed down by fear, worry, and anger.

Andrew Cosmos looked pointedly at the still seated man. "Alan, please tell me now if you don't think you can do this. I cannot allow you to go into Charlie's room and add to his anxiety."

"Hey!" Don angrily snapped at the physician. He turned back to his father. "Dad, it's okay. I'll go tell Charlie…"

"Nothing," Alan quickly interrupted. He looked at Andrew. "Let's go." He shot out of his chair, pulled open the door, and left the room without uttering another word.

A relieved Andrew Cosmos made his way around the desk. He found his way barred by an unyielding and irritated looking Don Eppes.

"Don't ever speak to my father like that again." Don warned the towering man. "You have no idea what this is doing to him."

Andrew Cosmos while impressed with the younger man's concern was not intimidated. This showdown was nothing compared to the one he had with the husband of a recently deceased patient who in anger lashed out and broke Andrew's nose.

"My priority is Charlie." Andrew stated calmly. "I will do and say what I have to in order to insure that his already tenuous health does not become further compromised. If that means feelings get hurt as I try to do my job; well then it is what it is." Andrew shrugged his shoulders. "I will never apologize for looking out for my patient."

Andrew Cosmos held the intense man's stare. While there was a hell of a lot of inner turmoil brewing in Charlie's older brother Andrew knew that Don Eppes posed no threat to his well-being.

After sizing each other up for several more seconds; an unspoken truce formed between the two headstrong personalities.

Don stepped to his right and allowed Andrew Cosmos to make his way toward the door. He silently followed the doctor out of the room.

Alan Eppes was pacing at the end of the hallway. Don and Andrew Cosmos hustled their way down the hall.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888  
  


Charlie, finally alone in his room, tried to remember a specific event that had caused him to be as frightened as he was at the moment. It was true that the first time a bullet whizzed past his head had left quite an impression on him, however, Charlie's heart was telling him that nothing would ever trump the discussion he just had with the Ana Vaidya.

Charlie almost laughed out loud.

"Why should he take notice of what his heart felt?" The weary man pondered. Especially since his heart had turned against him.

If Larry were here he would have innocently pointed out the irony of it all.

The sudden thought of his oldest friend left Charlie on the verge of tears.

The staff member who had attempted to block Don from entering his exam room was back. Charlie roughly rubbed his eyes. If he did not to cry in front of Don; he sure as hell was not going to do it in front of Megatron Miles.

Miles used an alcohol swab to wipe down the injection port and with a syringe added medication ordered by Andrew Cosmos.

He rotated and moved the IV bag in order to successfully mix the added medication. Miles then slapped a red sticker onto the IV bag.

"All done Professor," Miles announced. "You should feel a little more relaxed shortly."

"What's with the red sticker?" Charlie asked. "Am I going to become radioactive." He joked.

"Nah," Miles answered seriously. "It's just the color coded system we use here." He proceeded to gather up his materials and left.

Charlie made a mental note to not waste his witty sarcasm on Miles Megatron as the man obviously did not possess a sense of humor.

Dr. Cosmos had definitely ordered the good stuff for Charlie because he began to experience the drug's effect almost immediately. It felt as if the permanently "on" switch in his brain had been flipped to the off position and seeing how Charlie had always felt that his brain had not come equipped with an off function: it was an interesting feeling.

Charlie settled against his pillows.

"Nope," Charlie decided, "The feeling was not at all interesting. It was weird."

There were no concepts, expressions, thermos, or formulas battling and dueling for his immediate attention.

The mathematician had long harbored jealousy over how his brother and father were able to switch off their thoughts. Yet, now that Charlie had what he always envied he found it to be not as an enjoyable as he had always imagined it would be.

Charlie hoped his dad would walk through the door soon. While he missed his dad and needed his company; Charlie also theorized that if he had someone to talk to, it would help distract him from the creepy quietness going on in his head.

Alan, Don and Andrew Cosmos all reached the door to Charlie's room at exactly the same moment. Nevertheless, it was Alan's hand that was now wrapped around the door handle.

"Mr. Eppes, staff will be coming in to start prepping Charlie in about ten minutes; until then I have given instructions that no staff members are to interrupt your time with your son." Andrew Cosmos stated.

The cardiologist was handed a clipboard with numerous papers attached by a passing staff member. He scanned the first and second pages and instantly looked relieved.

"Charlie signed the consent form that allows me to ask the transplant team for an evaluation." Andrew stated to the two men.

"This is so unfair," Alan quietly addressed the door. He was now white knuckling the door handle.

"Yes, it is," Andrew replied and then added, "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not" Alan answered in a low growl. He squared his shoulders, pushed open the door, and walked into the room.

Charlie heard the door open, looked over, and when recognition hit (a little slower than normal); he gave the man in the doorway a crooked smile.

"Hey Dad," Charlie called out. During his wait Charlie had almost nodded off.

"Hey kiddo," Alan Eppes answered brightly as his heart continued to break.

"I calculated with 100% certainty that I will not be going to Cabo." Charlie announced dryly. He had made the decision to not spend what little time he had with his dad talking situational details.

He could tell by his father's forced smile and the sadness in his eyes that Alan was well aware of what was going on.

Unseen, Don stood behind the partially opened door and waited. He wanted to join in on the conversation. As much as Don wanted to be in the room; he knew his father needed time alone with Charlie.

"Well, you know what Charlie; I have it on pretty good authority that tuna, blue marlin, and sailfish all but jump out of the water and into the deep sea charter boats in Cabo come early December." Alan said with an honest smile. He noted that his youngest son was valiantly trying to stay focused.

"Really." A skeptical Charlie replied. He yawned. It hurt deep in his chest. He set out to put a hand on his chest, felt his father's eyes on him, and instead grabbed and yanked up his cover. He then made a great show of smoothing it out as if that was his intent all along.

As Charlie went about smoothing out his cover; Alan used the time that his son was not looking in his direction to fight back tears.

Alan noticed that the way the pillows were placed behind Charlie were not the way his son liked them. Alan proceeded to re position the pillows. As he did, Alan announced: "Field and Stream only prints the truth Charlie."

The statement made Charlie laugh.

An antsy Don heard his father and brother laughing and simply could not wait any longer.

He walked into the room and stood next to his father.

In all fairness Don should have allowed his father more time with Charlie. He gave his father a genuine "I'm sorry" expression and was relieved when Alan playfully nudged his shoulder.

"The three of us are going to do it." Charlie commented. He had meant for it to sound like a statement, but given all the times over the years that the three of them have spoken about going fishing; it came off sounding more like a sarcastic remark.

"Definitely." Alan vowed. "As soon as you are up to it." He carefully took hold of Charlies hand and smiled when he felt his son's fingers wrap around the back of his hand.

Alan then gave Charlie's hand a gentle squeeze.

"It's probably not going to happen for a while." Charlie responded. It was the only affirmation of his current situation that Charlie was prepared to issue.

"Hey," Don said. He tweaked his sibling's covered foot and gained his attention. "Cabo's not going anywhere."

"True," Charlie answered. "The three of us will get there." He announced. A family fishing trip to Cabo was now a goal and Charlie had always achieved every goal he ever set for himself.

"Damn straight we will." Don stated with a smile.

"Ditto," Alan added. He welcomed the sight of both of his son's smiling.

An auburn-haired staff member with the Amanda embroidered in white thread on her scrub shirt entered the room.

"I have to get our friend here ready for a meet and greet with Dr. Cosmos." She stated to Don and Alan.

She threw Charlie a comforting look and then patted his knee.

Alan checked his watch. He could not believe that his ten minutes were up already.

Scared Charlie looked to his father and brother for reassurance.

"We'll be close by Charlie." Alan said. He reluctantly let go of his son's hand. He pushed away some curls and planted a kiss on his frightened son's forehead.

Alan whispered into Charlie's ear.

Charlie smiled broadly.

Alan reluctantly moved to allow Don to have some words with his brother.

Don feared dislodging the IV catheter inserted and taped to his brother's hand; so he instead latched onto Charlie's fingers.

"You'll be back here before you know it and we'll be waiting." Don said to his nervous sibling.

Charlie blinked rapidly several times. He was still not going to cry.

Don could do one thing for his brother. He could help Charlie relax.

"Whatever dad said to you goes double for me," Don declared. He knew Charlie would take the bait.

"He told me that I was his favorite," Charlie said with mock seriousness. He heard his father chuckle.

"Well, okay then." Don replied as if he was wounded by his brother's words. "You're now not my favorite brother."

"I'm your only brother," An amused Charlie answered.

"Lucky me." A sincere Don replied. When Charlie flashed him a smile; Don returned the favor.

Amanda was well aware that Andrew "by-the-book" Cosmos was waiting. So she wedged herself between Charlie and his none-too-pleased looking brother.

"I'm sorry but it's time to go." Amanda announced to Alan and Don. She managed to herd the two unwilling men toward the door with one hand and opened the door with the other.

As Alan and Don moved past Amanda she said to them, "He's going to be in good hands."

Alan whispered a "thank you."

Out in the hallway, a numb Alan Eppes leaned up against a wall and closed his eyes.

Don watched as the door began to close slowly. The moment Amanda started walking back toward Charlie; Don stuck a foot in the doorway and effectively stopped the door from shutting all the way.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888  
  


"Okay, professor!" Amanda said lightly. "What is your comfort level with the added medication." She checked IV lines while waiting for an answer.

"Same scale?" Charlie asked.

"Yes the tried and true 1 to 10 rating system unless you've whipped us up a new one." Amada said with a smile.

Don noted the breathless sound of his brother's voice. Charlie had not sounded at all like that while Don was in the room. He tried not to think about the energy Charlie wasted putting on such a convincing performance.

"Four." Charlie answered honestly.

"Good that makes me happy." Amanda replied. "The last time I asked you that question you told me 8." She commented as she checked readouts.

"I'm really tired." Charlie quietly announced.

"Charlie allow yourself to rest." Amanda replied.

Don heard the woman's voice growing closer.

A small multi-colored clog pushed against Don's own well-worn shoe. He grudgingly took a step backwards and the door silently shut in a nervous Don Eppes' face.


	11. Chapter 11

Don eventually convinced his father to stop pacing and sit down in a small waiting area adjacent to the cardiac catheterization lab. Andrew Cosmos had informed Don and Alan that Charlie's two procedures (the biopsy & the intra-aortic balloon pump) would take about an hour to complete.

To Don, the hour wait sounded like an eternity

To Alan (who knew all too well what could go wrong in 60 minutes) the wait was a nightmare revisited.

At the 1 hour and 5 minute mark Alan Eppes started to panic.

"Something is wrong." Alan announced. He glanced at his watch for the hundredth time.

"Dad," Don said soothingly. "Dr. Cosmos told us it could be up to an hour."

"He said it would be approximately an hour if there were no issues." Alan snapped. "It's over an hour now."

Don had heard Andrew Cosmos too. He heard the cardiologist describe how he was going to make an incision in his brother's neck and then thread a thin tube through an artery in order to obtain a small sample from Charlie's heart.

Don had felt nauseous. Granted, he had heard a lot worse descriptions, but they usually focused around a prep. The two procedures that Andrew Cosmos discussed were going to be done on Charlie and it was his brother's heart that had to be evaluated.

Don remembered watching his father's face pale as the doctor continued with his detailed discussion.

The cardiologist had explained how he would thread an intra-aortic device through a second incision made in the inner thigh area of Charlie's leg and then proceed to thread the device through a femoral artery up to Charlie's heart.

It was at that point that Don just wanted Andrew Cosmos to shut the hell up.

Alan, had been so focused on catching every one of the surgeon's words, that he had no idea that Don was struggling.

Don, who had made his way through some pretty horrendous crime scenes, had thankfully managed to remain upright by sheer will.

"Donnie?" Alan nudged his preoccupied looking son's elbow. He knew from the expression on his son's face that Don wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now.

"I'm okay, Dad. I was just thinking about… Charlie." Don replied. He turned to see his father holding out his cell phone.

"I have several texts from Meghan, David and Colby and they all say the same thing: that they have left you several messages. Son, you really should let them know what is going on." Alan said gently. "Your brother is not just a co-worker to them."

"I know dad." Don answered. "I'll bring them up to speed after we talk to Dr. Cosmos."

Alan shifted uneasily in his chair.

"Who am I to tell you what you need to do?" He said honestly. "Seeing how I have yet to send an update to Larry or Amita. I only managed to get word to them that Charlie was being admitted to St. Vincent's, because of fluid build-up in his lungs." Alan paused. The large wall clock was silently taunting him. "I just can't get my fingers to type out a message that there is also an issue with his heart."

Don threw an arm around his beleaguered father's shoulders and pulled him close. It was easy for Don to show affection to his father. Yet, when it came to his brother the same could not be said: there were still plenty of times when Don opted to keep Charlie at arm's length.

Despite what his father thought; Don was not oblivious to the fact that his kid brother valued their relationship. Charlie has always accepted Don despite all of his imperfections.

As a teenager; Don would purposely go out of his way to goad Charlie. He would dish it out, Charlie would take it in, walk away, and eventually reappear willing to give Don another chance.

Don remembered how he could have cared less.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the memory.

The past collided with the present and Don heard himself making a confession: "I was a jerk to Charlie."

He put his head in his hands; elbows resting on his knees.

"Back then. Yes." Alan remarked. He bent down and stated quietly to his son. "Let it go. Charlie has."

A couple of green booties appeared.

Alan looked up. He met the gaze of a serious looking Andrew Cosmos.

Don inspected the pale fabric and observed several infinitesimal sized dots that were haphazardly spread across the disposable material. He pulled his attention away from the shoe coverings and made himself look at the cardiologist.

"Did everything go okay. How is Charlie?" Alan asked in a rapid fire delivery. He was already out of his chair.

"Why did it take longer than an hour?" an apprehensive Don inquired. He had been worried too. He just did not want to show it in front of his father.

"We encountered an unexpected bleeding issue at one of the incision sites (Andrew watched as Don Eppes looked down and then back at him again) but it was addressed and both procedures were completed."

"Can we see him?" Don asked. He needed to see with his own eyes that his brother was okay.

"Charlie has been moved to the post procedure recovery area where he will be monitored for an hour possibly two. You'll be able to see him for a short visit after he is moved back to his room."

"We are going to see Charlie once he is back in his room." Alan stated.

"You need to be aware that Charlie will be unresponsive for the next several hours." Andrew revealed.

"So what you really should be conveying to us is that we're not going to be able to talk to Charlie until tomorrow morning at the earliest." Don remarked.

Alan rested a hand on the middle of his stressed son's back.

An unflappable Andrew Cosmos addressed the tightly-wound man. "Yes. I'm afraid so. The sedation has a beneficial side effect; the ability to stabilize arrhythmia.

"I will be staying with him tonight just in case he wakes up." Alan announced.

"Alan, your son is not going to "wake up" at any point tonight," the cardiologist explained. "Charlie's heart is overworked and his body is overtaxed. Sleep and rest are priorities."

"My Dad's not going to shake him awake." Don snapped.

"Look, it's been a long night and Charlie is not the only Eppes, who needs to get some rest. The two of you are not going to be any help to him if you are both exhausted."

Andrew Cosmos never one to be accused of being in touch with his feelings; uncharacteristically reached out and gave Alan Eppes a light pat on the shoulder.

Don moved ever so slightly so that he was safely out of the doctor's petting zone.

The two Eppes men were a tough act. Andrew could in act a visitor's ban. He, however, wanted to live to see the morning. The cardiologist needed to come up with a convincing argument that a short ten-minute visit tonight was in the best interest of everyone involved.

Thankfully, after a five minute heated discussion, cooler heads finally prevailed and it was agreed that after Charlie was moved to back to his room Alan and Don would stay for an hour and then return in the morning.

Andrew Cosmos walked away impressed by his negotiating skills and in need of a drink (he could have to make due with a cup of coffee). He had a long night ahead; two elderly patients had begun downward spirals and Andrew needed to consult with each of their spouses to tell them that all that could be done had been done and that it was now only a matter of hours.

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Don Eppes needed to put some distance between St. Vincent's, Andrew Cosmos, and himself.

He was eventually able to convince his father to leave the hospital and get some fresh air and grab something to eat. He was aware that there was a small 24 hour diner within walking distance from St. Vincent's.

The last thing Alan had to eat was a small bag of trail mix from a vending machine.

At the nearly empty diner; Don ordered for his father and himself a turkey sandwich on rye bread. He also ordered for Alan a glass of water; as the last thing he saw Alan drink was a small cup of black coffee (also from a vending machine).

Alan asked the waitress to bring Don a cup of water as well.

The two men ate in silence; each afraid that any conversation would ultimately lead back the biopsy and its potential results.

Forty minutes later, the still silent pair made their way back to St. Vincent's.

After cooling their heels for another thirty-five minutes; a staff member informed Don and Alan that they could go to Charlie's room.

The unit was eerily quiet. It was so late that it seemed to Alan that only a skeleton crew remained on the floor to keep things up and running. The idea brought a whole new set of worries and Alan voiced his concern.

The same staff member reassured Alan that the unit was fully staffed and that every patient was being carefully looked after.

As Dr. Cosmos had predicted Charlie never stirred much to both Don and Alan's deep dismay. At exactly the 59 minute mark another staff member poked his head into the room. He stated to Don and Alan that the best thing for Charlie would be to see his family members looking rested in the morning.

After some reassurance from the nurse assigned to Charlie; Don and Alan walked out of St. Vincent's. Each trying not to think about how odd it felt, leaving as a twosome. Don, ignored his father's protest and walked the exhausted man to his car where he hugged Alan tightly. Don promised to meet him back at the house after he sent out some texts. Alan had not said so, but Don knew that his father did not want to be alone tonight.

He watched as his father pulled his car out of a parking spot and tracked Alan's car until he no longer had a visual.

He walked a few rows over, unlocked his SUV, and climbed into the driver's seat. Despite being bone-tired, Don pulled out his cell phone, (he had, after all, made a promise), located a specific number, and held the device to his ear. He had been instructed to call at any time.

A sleepy sounding voice said his name.

An emotional Don exclaimed: "It's bad!"

Don was grateful that Meghan could not see how badly the hand that was holding his cell phone was shaking. He managed to fill her in on everything that had transpired since he had bolted from the office.

Meghan had dug deep in her arsenal to try and reassure him, but Don could tell that she too was upset after he shared the news on Charlie.

Meghan had all but made Charlie her surrogate little brother. Even during her earliest time on the team; Meghan never appeared bothered by Charlie's tendency to interrupt (or hijack) any conversation that did not hold his interest. This had not been the case with David and Colby until each agent became more familiar with Charlie.

Before he ended the call Don asked Meghan if she would fill in David and Colby. Thankfully, she agreed. Don Eppes doubted that he would have been able to repeat the day's events two more times: just once was bad enough.

He dropped the small flip phone into the cup holder. It came to rest at an odd angle. At first, Don thought that it landed on some loose change that he habitually dumped into the plastic container. Then he fished around and came up with a folded beige-colored appointment card. Don unfolded the card and noted that the printed information was in regards to Charlie's doctor appointment.

Don looked out the passenger window and recalled the moment Charlie had patiently waited for Don to join him.

Alone in his car, without his father as a witness, Don lost it.

He took hold of the steering wheel and squeezed it until his hands hurt and then proceeded to fill the interior of the SUV with every expletive he knew and then some.

Anger should have given away to tears. Except, tears would be a sign that Don accepted Andrew Cosmos' dire predictions for Charlie and Don was not willing to do that.

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Fifty-five minutes later, Don pulled his SUV into Charlie's driveway. He cut the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. He noted that his father was standing in front of the living room window. Charlie had recently replaced all the old harsher light bulbs with eco-friendly ones that gave the interior of the house a softer feel. Don watched as Alan peered out the window, waved, and then moved out of view.

He swung the heavy SUV's door open and was just about to slide out of the driver's seat when he remembered his cell phone.

It was an appendage that had interrupted or stolen from Don so family moments.

Don grabbed the phone, slid from the seat, and placed two tired feet on the driveway. He slammed shut the SUV's heavy door.

As he walked up to the front door, it opened and Alan stood waiting to usher Don in. Ordinarily, this late at night, if Don (having texted) found that Charlie was downstairs still working, he would stop by and his brother would open the door, smile and let Don into the house.

Without fail; regardless of the time or how much work he still needed to get finished; Charlie hung out with Don and kept him company.

The fact that it was his father who had opened the door and not Charlie caused Don to freeze on the front step.

"Don, come in," Alan said in a comforting tone. "It's getting late." He had had the same reaction when he entered the house, flipped on the foyer light, saw Charlie's messenger bag but no Charlie.

It was only because of the promise that he made to his father that Don walked into Charlie's house.


	12. Chapter 12

  
Don had lucked out. He managed to find a “normal” T-shirt in Charlie’s closet. How a plain black T-shirt managed to find a home amongst all of his brother’s colorful T-shirts that either bore logos, slogans or mathematical graphics was a complete mystery to Don. He was pretty sure that he would have noticed if Charlie had gone through a late stage Goth phase. The very thought of his brother as a Goth fanatic put a smile on Don’s face. 

He had grabbed the gym bag he kept in the back seat of his SUV last night. It always contained a change of clothing. In the morning, after getting a shower, Don discovered that he had everything he needed except a shirt. He speculated that he must have taken the shirt out after A) he needed a clean shirt in the middle of a particularly gritty work day or B) he swapped a day old shirt for a clean on because he had arranged to meet someone right after work… and then Don remembered the stunning redhead. Mystery solved. 

Don teased Charlie at any opportunity for hanging up all his T-shirts (or Designer T’s as Don preferred to call them) in his closet. His brother would always counter with how unlike Don (who just threw his T-shirts in a dresser drawer) he had moved past the teenage “just rolled out of bed” look. 

He had just pulled on the shirt when the cell phone in the pocket of his jeans made its presence known. Don instantly recognized the number displayed on the small screen. 

His whole face lit up.

“Hey,” Don happily addressed his caller. 

“Bad Time?” 

An all too familiar sounding voice buzzed in Don’s ear. 

“Are you asking about me or talking about you?” Don said good-naturedly. He glanced at his watch and wondered why his brother was awake at 7:33 AM when, according to old man Cosmos Charlie was supposed to be in and out of La La land until mid-morning. 

The sound of his brother’s chuckle, had Don grinning ear to ear. 

However, after that worry reducing sound Charlie started wheezing and then coughing. 

“You okay?” An anxious Don asked. He would give anything to have his brother in front of him right now upset that Don had rummaged through his color coded closet.

“Yeah, just a hairball.” Charlie replied humorously. 

The hell with Cabo; he thought, the only place Charlie wanted to be was in his own bed. 

Standing in his brother’s bedroom; Don laughed.

Laid out in an uninviting hospital bed; Charlie smiled.

A brief silence formed between the two men. 

“Hey, listen,” Charlie stated. “Please don’t tell Dad, that I called. I just felt like talking and I knew that you’d already be up.” 

It hit Don at that moment that when the sedation wore off that Charlie had to have looked around his room and wondered why the hell he was completely alone.

“Hey Charlie, Dad and I stayed with you last night.” Don quickly explained. “We were only supposed to stay for ten minutes, but Dad pushed back and got us an hour.” 

“I know.” Charlie quickly replied. “Rowan filled me in.” When Charlie first opened his eyes it took a moment to register in his fogged up brain that he was all alone. He had panicked and held his thumb on the call button. It stayed there until Rowan flew through the door. 

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After passing an evaluation; Charle was once again on his on which is when he felt the need to talk to Don. The call had come at a price: still a little uncoordinated; Charlie banged the catheter taped to the back of his hand on the railing of his bed the first time he reached for his cell phone. Thankfully, there was no real damage done. Rowan, his day nurse, cleaned the area, applied new tape, and gave Charlie his phone. Now, though his hand was giving off a dull ache and already starting to bruise.

When Rowan tried to school Charlie on the use of a landline vs. a personal cell phone when making a call; Charlie jumped at the chance to dispell the long held notion that cell phones created electromagnetic interference in monitors etc...

The short lecture had boosted Charlie’s spirits. Rowan, however, left the room unimpressed with the irrefutable data that Charlie had dispensed. 

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“Your secret is safe. Dad is still sleeping.” Don answered as he walked over and sat down on the side of Charlie’s bed. The door to the room was still open.

Don tapped the door shut with his foot. He selfishly wanted to keep the call all to himself.

“Good,” Charlie replied. He just was not ready to hear all the sadness in his father’s voice again. Don, however, was a pro at hiding his inner emotions. Charlie knew he could call and not feel like he had unintentionally gutted his older sibling. 

For a brief moment Don felt guilty about not waking his dad, but he stayed put, phone glued to his ear.

“Dad and I will be in to see you soon.” Don promised. “Your doctor wouldn’t let either Dad or I stay last night. We were told to come back today around nine.” He heard his brother yawn. 

“I figured something like that went down.” Charlie tiredly replied. “Is Dr. Cosmos still in one piece?” 

“Yeah, it was a close call though.” Don replied only half-joking.

“I’m going to call Amita and Larry later.” Charlie volunteered. “I’m hoping that they’ll be able to come keep me company for an hour or so.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Don replied. He didn’t have the heart to tell his brother that Amita and Larry as non family members would only be allotted just ten minutes of that planned hour. 

Andrew Cosmos had not been happy when informed of just how many friends wanted to come in to visit with Charlie. The cardiologist told Don to make a list, leave it at the nursing desk, and it would be reviewed.

Don had all but forgotten about the list until Charlie brought up Larry and Amita. His willingness to provide said list would depend largely on whether or not Cosmos threw Don any shade today. It went without saying that the cardiologist was not his number one fan and vice versa. 

“It’ll give you and dad a break.” Charlie announced. He yawned once more. “Sorry.” He was growing very tired of feeling really tired.

“Hey buddy, just for the record Dad and I do not need breaks. We want to hang out with you as much and for as long as possible.” Don informed his brother. 

“What I meant to say was that it would give you both time to get something to eat.” Charlie admitted, “Sorry.”

“Seriously, Charlie, if you apologize one more time the first thing I’m going to do when I get there is smack you in the head.” 

Don heard a short laugh. A painful sounding/cough and then a breathy “okay” soon followed. 

“Hey, why don’t you try going back to sleep.” Don suggested. 

“All I do is sleep.” Charlie rightly pointed out. 

“Look, rest up and when I get there you and I can do some hallway wheelies.” Don kidded. 

“I haven’t lost my ability to walk, you know.” A testy sounding Charlie shot back.

“Whoa,” Don replied. “I just meant the sight of us doing wheelies would set Cosmos off.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” A apologetic sounding Charlie answered. “Sor…”

“Nope. Still counts. I owe you one.” Don said lightly. He wanted to keep talking and making his brother laugh, but Charlie sounded exhausted. 

They had been talking for a little more than six minutes and Don could tell that Charlie was already running out of steam. That good feeling that Don had upon first hearing his brother’s voice was beginning to dissipate.

Silence in his ear had Don thinking that perhaps Charlie had fallen asleep. 

When Don heard his brother’s voice again it was filled with a new found strength. 

“I instructed Dr. Cosmos to review the biopsy results with me first before including you and Dad.” Charlie clearly stated. 

Don thought he had heard wrong.

“You’re kidding right.” He shot back in disbelief. 

“Don, this is important to me and…” Charlie started. 

“Professor!” Isabella Garcia announced from the doorway. “You my dear are Dr. Vaidya’s next stop. She wants to check out her partner’s handiwork. Tell whoever that is you are going to have to call them back.” 

“I just need one more minute to finish a discussion.” Charlie tried to explain. He aimed his best wounded look at the stern looking staff member and for the first time in a long time; it failed.

Isabella, a nurse for 27 years, was unswayed by soulful eyed Charlie Eppes. The young man was not the first patient to try and take advantage of her maternal instincts. Isabella walked over to her noncompliant charge and instructed Charlie again to end his call. 

“Don, I gotta go.” Charlie said hurriedly into the phone. 

Don was at a loss. Granted, if the shoe were on the other foot; He would have made the same request. He just never expected his brother to turn the tables on him. For half the night, there were different scenarios going on in Don’s head depicting the moment his brother’s biopsy results were revealed. There was not one scenario where Charlie was alone. 

Every major decision in Charlie’s life has wound up requiring a family meeting. Now, his brother, wanted to change the rules?” Don was not having it. He made a beeline for the bedroom door and yanked it open. 

He would make Charlie change his mind. Don would have to leave his father a note. He would just state that he had gotten antsy and would meet him at St. Vincent’s.

At least that was the plan until Don came face to face with his father.

A surprised Alan was standing in the middle of the hallway. He had been on his way to get a shower when he heard his eldest son’s voice coming from Charlie’s bedroom. He had at first thought Don was on a work-related call. That viewpoint changed, however, when he heard his eldest son’s laugh. There was only one person who could make Don laugh that hard. 

“Were you talking to Charlie?” Alan asked in a clipped tone. 

“He called while you were sleeping.” Don instantly confessed. 

“And it did not dawn on you to walk a few feet and knock on my bedroom door?” Alan stated.

Don saw the storm clouds in his father’s dark eyes. 

“He asked me not to wake you.” Don answered honestly. 

“SO I guess we can now agree that I am not the only one who hands Charlie whatever he wants.” Alan snapped. At the moment he had no idea which of his two sons, he was more disappointed with. 

“Okay,” Don thought, “that one came out of left field.” He put it down to his father’s nerves being frayed.

Alan noted his son’s rushed appearance. “Is he okay?” the older man questioned. 

“Yeah, he called to see if we were coming.” Don answered.

“Why would he think that we would not be…” Alan started. “The room was empty. I tried to tell that doctor how Charlie would be upset if…”

“Dad, it’s okay. I explained that we stayed last night was long as we could and how you wanted to stay overnight but that Cosmos vetoed the idea. 

“Thank you,” Alan relented. “I’m still hurt though.” He felt justified in adding the last sentence. 

“I know Dad.” Don stated. He sounded really worried about you so I told him that I would let you sleep. I’m sorry.”

Alan all too aware of his youngest son’s powers of persuasion, let his eldest one off the hook. “Okay.” 

A tentative truce was enacted.

“Where were you headed before you almost plowed into me.” Alan questioned.

“I have to talk to Charlie.” Don took in his father’s bathrobe. “Can I meet you at St. Vincent’s?”

“Why?” A now alarmed Alan asked. “You just told me that your brother was doing fine.” Alan eyed his son suspiciously. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Nothing. Charlie sounded okay.” Don decided good was a stretch. He moved around his father and headed for the staircase. 

“But?” Alan called after the fast moving figure. He hustled after Don.

In a move that would have made any sportscaster proud Alan snagged the hem of Don’s T-shirt just before he moved off the staircase landing.

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer.” Alan barked as he held on tight. He issued a warning. “I swear if you and Charlie are conspiring to hold something from me.” 

“Dad, let go.” Don whirled around to face his father. “I’m not sixteen anymore.” 

Alan knew that tone of voice. He released his son’s shirt, but stood his ground. 

“There’s no conspiracy going on.” Don stated. “I have to go.” 

“First tell me what has you so agitated.” Alan demanded. 

“Charlie made a deal with Cosmos.” Don noted the blank look on his father’s face. “He’s going to hear the biopsy results privately.”

“When did this…” Alan began. 

“I don’t know,” Don interrupted. “Maybe they discussed it before Charlie went under for the biopsy. I didn’t have time to ask. I’ll talk to him and get him to change his mind.” 

Don was halfway down the staircase before he realized that his father had not gone off the rail over the news. He turned to see his father still standing on the second floor landing.

“Don,” Alan said evenly. 

“What?” A wary Don answered. He knew from the look on his father’s face that he was not going to like what the man was going to tell him. 

“It’s your brother’s decision to make.” Alan stated. 

“I know that Dad.” Don angrily huffed. “That doesn’t mean we have to accept. We can fight him on it. We…” Don stopped talking. “You’re going to go along with this. Aren’t you!”? 

“If by going along you mean that I will accept his decision. Then yes.” Alan calmly answered. “Even though I do not personally agree with it.”

“I’m not taking the high road. Not on this.” Don snapped. He headed down the remaining steps. “I’ll see you at St. Vincent’s.”

Alan followed his son’s flight. He made it to the first floor landing just as Don pulled open the front door. 

He had to think fast.

“That shirt always looked good on you.” Alan announced.

“What?” A disbelieving Don Eppes turned from the open doorway. He could not fathom why his father had just made a fashion statement. 

“The shirt you have on.” Alan pointed to the perfectly fitted shirt his son had on. “It doesn’t belong to Charlie.” Alan reached around his pondering son and pushed the front door shut. “Before you packed up the clothes you wanted to take with you to the minors; Charlie snagged that from your room.” 

“The legal term being stolen not snagged.” Don said lightly. 

“Okay,” Alan agreed. He knew he had hooked his son’s attention.“You called it your lucky shirt.” Alan recalled. 

“Right,” Don said. He smiled as the memories rolled in. “I had some really good times because of this shirt.” He had long ago believed that his mother had thrown it out based on its unsavory (she got so mad at him once that she actually used the term during a heated argument) history. 

He continued to wait for an explanation as to why his brother a living breath math god by that the time had felt the need to steal it. It wasn’t like Charlie was blazing his own dating trail he was too busy writing award winning papers and coming up with attention gathering theorems.

“Charlie told your Mom that you had always looked so confident in that shirt and he wanted to keep it to remind himself “it’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.” 

“Man,” A surprised Don said. “That’s what I used to tell him whenever he got frustrated with something he was working on.” It was nice to find out that he and Charlie had actually managed a connection during a time when their relationship was at its worst. 

“I remember,” Alan replied.

“It’s a Babe Ruth quote,” Don admitted. 

“Didn’t matter. It was you telling him it. He valued your words.” Alan stated. “He still does.”

“You fight dirty old man.” Don said without a trace of animosity.

“This is Charlie’s call.” Alan responded. He waited for an acknowledgement.

“I want to be there so that...” Don began. 

Alan gently placed a hand on each side of his stubborn son’s face. “You can’t fight this fight for him.” 

“I can’t stand around feeling useless,” Don acknowledged. He pulled away from his father’s hold. 

“You want to talk feeling useless.” An emotional Alan Eppes remarked. “He’s my son, and there’s not a damn thing that I can do to make any of this better.” 

It was in that second that Don realized that as awful as this was for him it had to be a 24/7 nightmare for his father. 

“We’ll get him through this Dad.” Don stated with conviction. 

Alan smiled at his son. It was supposed to be Alan’s turn to be the lifeline. 

“Without a doubt.” The older man replied. “We both know how happy it makes Charlie to come out on top.” 

Don pulled his father in for a hug. 

Alan squeezed a little harder than normal and to his amazement felt his usually hug resistant son lean into his embrace. 

The two men clung to each other. 

Alan broke free first.

“I’m going to go get ready.” He started up the staircase. Alan turned on the third step. “You're still going to be here when I come down?” 

Don nodded reluctantly. 

He waited until he heard his father go into the upstairs bathroom before pulling out his phone. He scrolled down until he found the number.

Walking toward the kitchen; Don put all his displeasure over Charlie’s decision into a colorful voicemail that he left for Andrew Cosmo.


	13. Chapter 13

Charlie was anxious and exhausted. He had been awake off and on since about 6 AM. Around 6:15, he really wanted to hear a familiar voice and for a nanosecond contemplated calling his house, and talking to whoever he woke up first. Then he realized how incredibly self-centered calling that early in the morning would appear and gave up on the idea.

He waited a full hour before calling Don. It was an exceedingly long hour; which in Charlie's brain, he understood, was impossible because an hour consisted of 60 minutes or 3600 minutes respectively.

Charlie was not happy that he had to put an end to his call to his brother.

As Isabella went about checking her patient's hands and extremities for color, temperature and sensitivity she felt a pair of unhappy brown eyes boring a hole into the side of her head.

"Sorry, my friend, but I have a schedule to keep." Isabella said as she continued her evaluation. "Both Dr. Cosmos and Vaidya will be in soon and they will want to see the latest readouts."

"Izzy (Charlie learned a long time ago if you at least try to make a personal connection with a hard-to-reach student it makes the term goes so much smoother – hence his nickname for Isabella) I think the sedative they kept giving me last night was definitely past its use by date."

Despite trying her best not to; Isabella cracked a smile.  
"Interesting theory." Isabella replied. "Seeing how you've been awake more than asleep since four." She had not been fooled by Charlie's "I'm asleep" routine. Isabella walked to the door and pumped out some hand sanitizer and proceeded to rub it in for a second time. "You're exhausted."

"Yes." Charlie answered honestly. "But I don't want any medicinal help to fall back to sleep because my father and brother are going to be here around nine."

"No medicinals huh," Isabella replied. She hoped Charlie's family members knew about the two previously postponed road projects that started up this morning without much advance public warning. Isabella hated to think that Charlie just might end up being very disappointed in an hour's time.

"Can I lower the head of the bed about ten degrees?" Charlie asked. "I was told it had to stay at a thirty degree angle."

"I don' know what misinformed person you've been talking to when I'm off the floor." She said only semi-joking. "You certainly can lower it. However, if you want to raise it back up again, it cannot be higher than a thirty degree angle."

"Got it." Charlie replied. He put his hand on the device that helped lower or raise the top or bottom portions of the bed.

Isabella watched as the young man appeared to freeze.

"Charlie?" The nurse said gently. "You okay there?"

"Yes," Charlie quietly answered. "Just an unexpected memory." He lowered the head of the bed to a position that felt more comfortable.

Isabella helped reposition the pillow behind Charlie's head and then smoothed his cover and did some tucking because Charlie looked like he could use some motherly attention.

"Thanks Izzy." A smiling Charlie stated.

"Not a problem Prof." Isabella replied. She matched the young man's smile.

"Do you think that I will I get the biopsy results this morning?" A worried sounding Charlie inquired.

"It will depend on how inundated the lab is with requests." Isabella answered. It was the standard hospital line. The truth: Doctors with decades under their belt like Andrew Cosmos had connections and that helped move things along quickly. Meanwhile, anxious patient's with newbie doctor's had to wait a lot longer for results. Charlie was "a name" to the hospital board and that also helped move things along.

"I'm going to take that as a yes." Charlie said. He knew how the game was played. It was the same at CalSci. All he had to do was ask for use of the overly booked Super Computer and BAM time suddenly became available.

"Dr. Cosmos wants you either resting or sleeping as much as possible. Thankfully for the both of us the man is not around yet, or you would be a witness to one of his epic hissy fits." Isabella remarked.

The nurse was happy to see her remark made Charlie smile. He had such a warm smile. However, she could also see that he was losing the battle to stay awake.

"Okay, I'm going to give you ten minutes to fall back to sleep on your own. If not, I will have to offer up some assistance."

Lucky for Charlie every other patient on the floor had coverage and were still asleep; Isabella settled into the chair by his bed and fixed him with a look that said: time starts now.

Charlie visibly relaxed, which made Isabella happy. It did not take ten minutes; Charlie Eppes was asleep in four minutes.

Isabella quietly moved the chair back to its original resting place, did another scan of the monitors, and then left the room.

Charlie was wide awake at 8:46 AM. The short nap helped. It cleared out the remaining cobwebs from his head. It also served to keep Isabella happy and off his back. It was a win-win.

When a staff member came through his door to collect a tray Charlie was majorly let down.

At 8:50 AM: Charle received a call from his father to tell him that added detour traffic had them playing stop and go. His father said they would be in his room not later than 9:30 at the latest.

Charlie heard his brother cursing out some poor harried commuter who unfortunately found themselves in front of an impatient Don Eppes.

At 9:03 Charlie he heard the unmistakable sound of several pairs of feet pounding past his door. The mathematician did not need his stratospheric IQ to deduce what all that running signaled. He grabbed the TV remote, turned the volume up on a morning news program, and drowned out the hallway noise.

At 9:10 Andrew Cosmos and Ana Vaidya walked into Charlie's room. Introductions were made.

After which, Andrew Cosmos asked Charlie if he would mind turning off the TV.

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"I'd love to meet the moron who made the decision to funnel detour traffic onto a two lane residential street." Don gripped. The driver of the Lexus driver in front of him slowed and for a millisecond looked as if they would attempt to make an illegal U-turn. "Don't do it!" Don warned the oblivious driver.

"Well, it probably looked like a really good idea on paper to a person who has never left the comfort of their office." Alan remarked. He checked his watch for the tenth time.

It was now 9:25 and Don and Alan were still a good ten minutes from St. Vincent's.

"We're going to be cutting it close. I should call Charlie." Alan suggested.

"Tell him that I'm doing the best that I can and that we are presently surrounded by idiots." Don remarked.

Alan pulled out his phone again. It almost slipped from his hand when Don had to brake unexpectedly.

"I'm going to start running plates soon." Don grossed. "Starting with this one." He pointed to the slow moving Volkswagon Beetle in front of them.

The remark left Alan smirking as he waited for his call to connect.

"Charlie?" Alan spoke into his phone. He held the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. It was the right number.

He received no answer.

Waiting for the light ahead to turn green again; Don looked over at his father.

"What's wrong?" Don questioned.

Alan simply shrugged his shoulders. He tried again. "Charlie?"

He was about to end the call and start over when the distinctive tone of his youngest son's voice sounded in Alan's ear.

"Dad, are you and Don still coming?" Charlie questioned his father.

"Charlie, we're only a block away now." Alan responded. "Your brother had to drive through a sea of idiots.

Don glanced over to see how Charlie had reacted to Alan's traffic observation. The expression on his father's face was not one of amusement. Instead, his father looked anxious.

The light turned green and Don had no option but to eavesdrop on a one-sided conversation.

"Okay. I'll be waiting for you." Charlie replied. He just could not stay on the phone any longer. He had to get off.

"Charlie? Hello?" Alan was at a loss. "He ended the call."

"I'm sure it was because a staff member came in and told him to get off." Don said, trying to lower his father's anxiety level.

"He's scared." Alan said. "I heard it in his voice."

The two men just looked at each other. Neither one giving voice to their thoughts.

"We're here, Dad." Don said patiently. He waited for a chance to make a left into the medical center's parking lot. "We'll go in and find out what's going on."

In a moment of irony: a METRO bus (the last vehicle that Don needed to wait for in order to turn) passed and on the side of the bus was a colorful advertisement that proclaimed St. Vincent's as a top-ranked cardiac care institute.

As soon as the lanes were clear; Don made his turn and pulled into St. Vincent's expansive complex. He had to loop round the main visitor lot twice before he nabbed a recently vacated parking spot.

Alan and Don were both in the process of shutting the SUV's heavy doors when Alan's phone rang.

Alan reached for his phone once more. The number showing on the phone's screen had Alan scrambling to open it.

Don, quickly shut his door.

He made it around the back of the SUV just as Alan issued a worried sounding greeting.

Don stood in front of his father, hands on hips, waiting. He was not good at waiting.

"Yes, Don and I are in the process of walking into the building." Alan said. "We were stuck in traffic."

"Cosmos?" Don inquired. If it were Charlie his father would have an expression that showed equal parts of relief and worry. The expression his father now wore consisted of 100% worry.

Alan nodded and said yes.

"Good."Andrew Cosmos commented. "I think that it's important that we meet as a family after I have finished morning rounds."

"Dad?" An impatient Don questioned.

Alan gave his equally nervous son a "one minute" look.

"Dr. Vaidya and I spoke with your son roughly 15 minutes ago." Andrew Cosmos explained. "Charlie's endomyocardial (heart) biopsy revealed the presence of GCM cells." The cardiologist heard Alan Eppes inhale sharply. He heard Don Eppes ask his father if he was okay.

"Alan, do you want me to speak to Don?" Andrew Comos suggested.

"No, I'll do it." Alan replied.

Despite the hard-hearted persona the staff bestowed on him; Andrew Cosmos felt for every patient and their family members when the news he shared was the one no one wanted to hear.

Being the bearer of bad news weighed heavily on a physician: even ones believed to have hearts of stone.

"Alan, we'll talk shortly. Come in. Charlie needs to be with his family." Andrew Cosmos ended the call.

Andrew was finished his morning rounds. By now he would be headed back home in order to catch up on paperwork (he still had paper files), grab some lunch, read a good book on his deck, and then grab some sleep before his night shift. Today, though, he would wait for the Eppes clan to collect themselves before going back to Charlie's room.

The cardiologist's news left Alan reeling. He bent over as if in physical pain. His mind went completely blank. It was not until Alan heard the sound of his eldest son's voice that it registered in his brain that he still had to share the news with Don.

"Dad!" Don shouted. He instinctively threw an arm around the older man's back and took hold of his father's forearm. He was afraid that Alan was going to pass out.

"I'm okay." Alan whispered. He made it to an upright position and gratefully allowed Don to help back him up against the SUV's door.

"He discussed the biopsy results with Charlie." Don asked.

"Yes," Alan replied. "Don…"

"Don't" Don stated. It was a request not a mean spirited warning. He took a step back. "Charlie's waiting for us, Dad."

Alan understood completely. For now, Don, who had so many components to him, would internalize and do whatever it took to be there for his brother. Alan also knew one other thing; Charlie would never see his brother break down.

Isabella Garcia was just coming out of Charlie's room when she spotted Alan and Don Eppes approaching. By the drawn look on each of the two men's faces; the nurse knew that they had been updated.

Even so, as they stopped in front of her, Alan Eppes gave her a smile.

"I just finished another circulation check and Charlie's doing very well. He was very happy to hear that instead of every 15 minutes I will only come in every hour on the hour." Isabella explained. She had done her best to try and lighten the mood before the two men went into the room and faced the reality of their loved one's situation.

"Thank you for all the extra time you have spent with Charlie." A grateful Alan acknowledged the woman's kindness.

"Oh, please Mr. Eppes spending extra time with Charlie is by no means work." Isabella answered truthfully. "I even earned myself a nickname in the process."

Armed with the knowledge that his brother only awarded his most challenging students with nicknames; Don took a sudden interest in his shoes and hid his smile.

"Let me get out of your way. Charlie's waiting." Isabella moved to go around Alan. She stopped, however, when he put a hand on her forearm.

"I know from talking with Dr. Cosmos that it's important to keep Charlie from moving."

"Yes, it's extremely important that your son remain as still as possible and I cannot stress enough that Charlie is not allowed to move his right leg. Also, the head of the bed can only be raised up to thirty degrees." Isabella instructed.

"What if during our conversation he becomes upset?" Alan all but wondered aloud.

"Alan," Isabella patiently addressed the worried man. "Charlie is well aware of the sensitive nature of the pump. If at anytime you feel that my presence is needed just push the call button. I won't be far away."

The fact was that Isabella planned on waiting in the hallway until she was sure there would be no need for her to go back in to Charlie's room.

Isabella stepped around Alan Eppes.

"Dad, you ready?" Don asked his father. He placed his hand on the door handle.

Alan wanted to ask for a few minutes alone with Charlie, but the expression on his eldest son's face told Alan that there was no way that Don would even entertain the idea of waiting.

He swallowed his disappointment. "I'm ready," Alan said quietly.

The moment Charlie saw his father and brother, his face started to crumble.

"I'm so sorr…" Charlie began.

"Whoa," Don announced loudly. "What did I tell you earlier."

Alan looked at Don as if he had lost his mind.

"What the hell are you doing?" The older man whispered harshly.

Don strode over to Charlie's bed. It took everything in him to ignore how pale and sick his brother looked in order to continue.

"Why are you being like this?" A visibly upset Charlie asked.

"Tell me what I told you earlier." Don demanded. If his brother did not catch on then he would stop because the way Charlie was looking at him now was gutting Don.

Charlie looked away.

Alan grabbed Don's elbow and angrily whispered in his ear, "This is not the time to be playing some FBI mind game." He was just about to pull his oldest son away from the bed when Charlie looked at Don.

"I'm not to say "I'm sorry." Charlie said in an emotion filled voice.

Don pulled away from his father and leaned over the bed rail.

Alan looked on dumbfounded.

"Which you've done three times now." Don replied. He stared coolly at his younger brother.

"Wait! You can't hit me. I'm all hooked up here." Charlie warned his sibling.

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Andrew Cosmos stopped walking and stood directly behind Isabella Garcia in the hallway.

"What the hell did I just hear?" The cardiologist asked.

"Give it another minute." Isabella said calmly.  
**************************************  
"Don't, don't you…" Alan started to warn his oldest son.

"Yo bro, you better listen to dad…"

Don leaned even closer and by doing so, he now could now hear the sound of the balloon in his brother's chest inflating and deflating. When Don met his brother's eyes, he managed to make it seem like the sound had not thrown him. It was Don's best acting to date.

Don lightly flicked his brother in the forehead.

"You are certifiable." Charlie declared. He rubbed his forehead with his non-bruised hand. Despite his proclamation; Charlie was smiling.

"Nice after I went and left you off easy." Don countered. He would banter all morning with his brother if it was what Charlie needed.

"Honestly, I think you both are." Alan said with false seriousness. He took his cue from his two exceptional son's – laughter no tears.

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The sound of laughter could be heard coming from the other side of the door.

"Are you really planning on going in there right now?" Isabella questioned the doctor.

"I'll be back. I'm going to go get another cup of coffee." Andrew Cosmos, the cardiologist, with the heart of stone, replied.

"I knew you were a good guy Dr. By-the-Book," Isabella whispered to Andrew, the doctor she worked alongside of for the last fifteen years.

"Yeah, well keep it to yourself," Andrew Cosmos whispered back. "I've got a cold-hearted rep to keep."

Isabella patted Andrew's back lightly and then made her way back to the nurses' station.


	14. Chapter 14

  
Andrew Cosmos viewed his discussion with the Eppes family as successful. He had reiterated that the IABP (Intra-aortic Balloon Pump) was a stop-gap measure. It could not be seen as a "fix" for the damage done to Charlie's heart by the GCM: a transplant was still the primary goal. Ana (who had accompanied Andrew) explained to Charlie, Alan, and Don everything they probably did not want to know about how the heart transplant process worked.

To classify it as a stoic meeting would be erroneous as there were moments of measured emotion. However, there seemed to have been a silent understanding between the three men that there would be no hair pulling, rolling on the floor, and screaming at the gods because A) it served no real purpose or B) they were not going to fall apart in front of each other. Andrew believed the answer was both A & B.

As Andrew was exiting out of the room; he looked back and saw Charlie being flanked on either side of the bed by Alan and Don. It looked as if the resilient trio were already formulating a plan of attack.

The Eppes men had already been through one life changing event. Andrew hoped they would make it through a second battle where everything came down to timing.

As he and Ana walked down the hallway, his colleague pointed out how impressed she was by Alan, Don and Charlie's united front.

Andrew agreed with her point of view. However, over the years he had seen many a united family go for each other's throats over differing opinions on how much was too much when it came to medical treatment for their critically ill loved one.

Alan and Don only stayed with Charlie until 7:00 that night. They could see that he was tired even after having slept off and on throughout the day.

Don walked his father up the footpath that went to the front door of his brother's household. The timed landscaping lights were on. The house looked as inviting as ever.

The toll that the stressful day had taken on his father showed when Alan fumbled while trying to get the front door unlocked.

Don, who still had his key ring in his hand, produced his own house key.

"I'll get it Dad." Don said as he approached the door.

"I can open the damn door!" Alan exclaimed. He forced the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

Don stepped back. Try as he might he could not shake the feeling that at some point during the day he must have done something that had gotten under his father's skin. However, Don had no intention of bringing the subject up with his bone-tired father.

Once inside, standing together in the foyer, the two men tried not to notice how quiet and still the house seemed.

Don walked into the living room and flipped on the nearest table top lamp.  
"So, Dad, I was thinking that I might stay at my place tonight." Don commented as he followed his father into the kitchen. "I'm out of clean clothes and…"

"Do you want something to eat?" Alan suddenly asked. He opened the refrigerator and stared at its contents.

"No, not right now." Don answered. He was beginning to think maybe another night at the house wouldn't be a such bad idea. "But if you're hungry, I'll make you something."

"No, not right now." Alan repeated his son's answer verbatim without even realizing it. He continued to address the contents of the refrigerator. "I'm going to have to clean this out because all these leftovers were for Charlie… and he never touched them… now they're going to go bad."

"Dad," Don steered his father away from the refrigerator and shut the door. "I'll get to it in the morning." He had already decided on staying for a couple nights, which meant he was raiding Charlie's closet again and stopping by his place sometime tomorrow in order to grab some of his stuff.

Alan gave his hands something to do by filling the empty tea kettle with water even though he had no desire for a hot cup of tea. He held the now full kettle in his hands and looked out the kitchen window.

"Dad?" Don questioned the silent form.

"I'm fighting the urge to throw this damn thing through the window." Alan answered seriously. He remained stationed in front of the window. His hand tightened around the black handle of the tea kettle.

"I'd second that Dad," Don patiently spoke to his father as he took the potential flying object away from Alan. He replaced it on the range's back burner. "If I didn't know that Charlie would be royally pissed if you took out some of his Koi in the process."

"I cannot lose Charlie too," Alan stated in a sad soft voice.

Don threw an arm around his father's shoulders.

The two men stared out into the darkness.

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Rowan Miller, had come back onto the floor at six, she spoke with Isabella about Charlie's day as her colleague prepared to leave for the day. It had been agreed that Isabella would remain on day shift (seniority had its privileges) while Rowan would be placed temporarily on the night shift.

She was told that Charlie's nutritional intake was not going to make Andrew Cosmos any sort of happy. Rowan was also forewarned that Cosmos was presently with a patient who was brought into the ER in cardiac arrest. He was, however, expected on the floor.

Rowan was also made aware (because Isabella missed nothing) that Brandon Shore from Ortho had in a passing conversation referred to the Andrew Cosmos as an Electrophysiology Cardiologist and then found himself being verbally eviscerated by said cardiologist and will from now on refer to Andrew Cosmos as a Heart Failure Cardiologist.

In short, Andrew Cosmos was not going to be in a good mood.

Rowan entered Charlie's room at 9:00 PM in order to complete another hourly check. She found him watching TV. The volume was a little louder than was necessary for the size of the room. Rowan watched as her patient channel surfed and appeared content on continuing the annoying exercise.

"Hey Charlie, it's more interesting if you settle on one channel and watch its content for more than a couple of seconds." Rowan joked.

"So I've been told," Charlie said dryly.

Rowan took note that her input was not needed and went about recording IABP pressure, checking Charlie's pulse, skin color and temperature. She had a lengthy checklist which included (among other things): checking placement (for possible migration), urine output, left radial artery, blood pressure, and bleeding at the catheter site.

"Any pain, numbness, or tingling sensations?" Rowan inquired. She was not surprised when her question went unanswered. Charlie had every right to be in a bad mood.

Rowan plowed on nevertheless.

"Charlie, did you hear my question?" She questioned. There was no attempt at making eye contact. He continued to flip channels. The volume of all the jumbled messages was starting to get to Rowan. She expected Sara, the charge nurse, to come marching in and confiscate his remote.

"Yes," Charlie replied. "I have no pain, numbness, or tingling."

"You didn't eat very much today."

"I already told Isabella that I'll try and do better tomorrow." An irritated Charlie exclaimed.

"Isabella's going to hold you to that." Rowan stated. She had ducked her fair share of food trays and water pitchers hurled by angry patients. If this was as angry as Charlie Eppes got she just might have to put a tray in his hand and tell him "let it rip."

"It's hard trying to eat at this angle." Charlie complained. He wanted to add that everything was getting too difficult, but seriously, what was the spot. It would only earn him another good intentioned pep talk.

"I admit that it takes a little getting used to." Rowan patiently stated. "You know, I could rustle you up a pretty decent fruit smoothie if you are hungry."

"I'm not." Charlie replied briskly. He had heard all day long from Isabella, Don and especially his father that he needed to eat. Charlie turned and looked at Rowan. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little…"

"Angry," Rowan commented. She heard him make a "pfft" sound.

"I was going to say tired." Charlie replied. "But angry works too." He managed to muster up a lopsided grin.

"Well, here's a thought if you turn off the TV or at the very least lower its volume a couple decibels you might actually be able to get some sleep." Rowan responded. "If you choose the later, I'll come back in and turn it off."

"I don't want it off or the volume lowered." Charlie strongly protested.

Rowan watched as the grip Charlie had on the remote tightened.

She quickly tried to figure out what, if anything she had overlooked. Charlie obviously had no trouble sleeping throughout the day, even when his father and brother were present and carrying on a conversation. Isabella would have made mention of any issues that had come up and she had not.

"Charlie, I can't help you if I have no idea what's…"

"I need something to focus on in order to fall asleep." Charlie quickly explained. "Earlier I used my dad and Don's voices." He turned his attention back to the noise of the TV. "Now that they've gone home; I need a distraction in order to forget that I can hear this thing (Charlie waved a bruised hand above his chest) inflating and deflating."

"Granted, the sound can be disconcerting." Rowan agreed. She had to regroup when Charlie threw her a "really" look that made him look like a pissed off twelve-year-old. "All right, it's annoying as hell."

"It's worse when it pauses." Charlie admitted.

Rowan opened her mouth to speak.

Charlie held up a hand.

"I know! Isabella explained that even when it pauses my own heart continues to beat." He stated. "But for a second or so after that happens it…" He decided to end the discussion then and there.

"Scares you." Rowan filled in the blanks for her reluctant patient.

Charlie picked at a loose thread he just discovered on his cover.

"Hey Charlie, it's okay to be scared." Rowan suggested gently. She was only a year older and could only imagine how receiving a diagnosis like Charlie's would have affected her.

"Well, that's good because I am." Charlie revealed quietly.

He was grateful for having lucked out in getting both Isabella and Rowan to assist with his primary care.

Rowan took note of some minor bleeding at the insertion site and continued to engage Charlie while she collected materials needed to change the dressing.

"Sometimes it helps to talk to about your fears." Rowan said as she expertly cleaned and applied new dressing. "I have a feeling that you are going out of your way to not cause your father or brother any further worry." She looked at Charlie as she readjusted his bedding.

"Maybe," Charlie answered vaguely.

"Maybe," Rowan parroted. "That you're deliberately holding back from your family or maybe you'll talk to someone." She deposited the old dressing into a medical waste container and then washed and sanitized her hands at a small sink. Rowan returned to Charlie's bedside and waited for his response.

"Both," Charlie finally answered.

"Doing the best at this moment puts you in the best place for the next moment." Rowan volunteered.

Charlie stared at Rowan like she had suddenly sprouted a second head.

She felt her cheeks burning. Isabella was so much better at being uplifting. Rowan for all her good qualities lacked in the uplifting department. She realized too late that it had been a mistake to even try.

"Uh, um words of wisdom from Oprah." She said with an embarrassed smile.

"Do I get a car?" Charlie inquired with a smirk.

"Nope. Sorry. Just her wisdom." Rowan responded.

The two shared a laugh.

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Andrew Cosmos on his way down the hallway to break the heart of a newlywed whose basketball playing husband had just been placed on life support.

The sound of laughter had the harried cardiologist stopping momentarily in front of Charlie's door.

"Rowan?" Andrew asked a passing staff member.

"Yes," the charge nurse, replied. "She's another good match for him."

"Good. Good. Good." Andrew said to himself as he continued down the hallway. He was glad to hear that Rowan was working out. He respected Isabella's opinion and had taken her up on her suggestion that Rowan would also work well with Charlie.

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"Could you dim the lights so that I can try and get some sleep?" Charlie announced.

He had relinquished the remote and allowed Rowan to turn the TV to a music only channel; one that featured classical music. It was definitely not Charlie's brand of music, but he figured that he had been rude enough to her so he thanked her for the selection. She had pulled a chair over and adjusted the brightness of the TV so that its screen was now a dull glow.

Charlie would have to get Isabella to fix it in the morning. He thanked her for the result.

He made a mental note to call home before his morning routine of poking, prodding, chest clearing and x-raying started up to ask either Don or his dad to grab for him his iPod and his big headphones (earbuds were not going to cut it).

"Charlie," Rowan said as she dimmed the lights. "If you find that you are having trouble falling asleep, let me know because Dr. Cosmos has prescribed a light dosage Melatonin RA or we can start oxygen therapy." Rowan explained. She already knew what the man's reaction to her news would be.

"No and no." Charlie replied. He had read his patient right's literature during his long wait in the exam room. Charlie fully intended to fend off certain measures for as long as possible.

"All right, we'll do it your way tonight." Rowan conceded. "But, if either becomes a real issue, you are going to have to do battle with Dr. Cosmos."

"Fine," Charlie answered. He tried to sound unconcerned by the prospect.

"Fair warning - no one on this floor has ever won a war of words with Dr. Cosmos." Rowan waited for a humorous comeback.

None came because (as she noted) Charlie had his eyes closed and seemed to be trying to use the background music to lull himself to sleep.

Rowan quietly shut the door to his room.

Charlie opened his eyes when he heard the door swoosh shut.

Alone in semi-darkness, Charlie did what he had not done since the night after his very first day of high school: he let the tears silently flow.

When he was done feeling sorry for himself; Charlie lightly blew his nose (because he was afraid what the balloon would do) into a tissue; wiped his face with another and finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Having not left her post on the other side of the door; Rowan waited until she only heard the sound of intermittent snoring (due to Charlie's compromised airways) before she stealthfully made her way back into the room.

She went over all the monitors and did another visual of her patient. Satisfied; Rowan made her way back to the door. Pulled open the door and whispered: "Goodnight Charlie."  
  
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In Charlie's house across town; Don and Alan were also calling it a night.

Don found that he could no longer follow the idiotic plot of the B-grade crime drama movie he had turned on.

Across the room, Alan kept losing his place in his book.

"Dad," Don called over to his father as he watched the older man nod off. "You ready for bed." Don was seated in the room's most comfortable chair, the one that Charlie always claimed whenever he turned on yet another boring documentary.

The last time Charlie forced a Nat Geo® documentary on Don it was on the continual migration of the wildebeest or the Connochaetes. The fact that Don knew the scientific name for wildebeest instantly put tears in his eyes. He thankfully managed to hold them back when he heard his father's voice.

"Yes, I've looked over the same diagram ten times now," Alan closed his book. It had been his birthday present from Charlie two years ago.

After Don had thrown together a quick dinner; they had moved into the living room and Alan had taken it out down from the bookshelf. The book had its own back story. Charlie had gone out of his way to hunt down the out-of-print book. "Basic Building Data: 10,000 Timeless Construction Facts" by Don Graf (1949).

The subject of the book had come up during a recent humorous dinner discussion that centered on do-overs.

Don said that he would have bought the souped up 1970 Camero a Stockton Rangers teammate had offered to sell him, but walked away from the deal because the SOB refused to go down $200.

Alan had said he was glad the deal and fallen through. He could only imagine the amount of tickets his heavy-footed son would have acquired in such a ride.

Alan revealed that he would have packed up everything held dear to him before breaking up with his crazy first serious girlfriend. Seeing how she went and set everything of his ablaze including a 1949 edition of "Basic Building Data: 10,000 Timeless Construction Facts" that Alan's father had passed on to him.

Don had called Alan out on what he called "a rookie mistake" which left Charlie grinning from ear to ear.

When it was Charlie's turn, he said he would have kept right on walking the first time he crossed paths with Marshall Penfield.

To which Alan and Don in unison dramatically added, "because he has made it his life mission to steal your work."

Alan, smiled at the memory, he held the book close to his chest and walked toward the staircase.

Don surveyed the room and then walked over to the coat rack. He reached down and scooped up Charlie's messenger bag.

"Ready?" Alan asked.

"I am now," Don answered.

Don turned off the outside porch light and followed his father up the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

Dawn broke halfway through Don's run. He preferred running when his other fellow LA'ers were either still asleep or thinking about putting one foot on the floor. He liked the combination of quiet streets and loud music playing in his ears. The empty streets made for an easy run. The loud music kept his thoughts to a minimum (which he needed badly). On any given work day, Don had more than enough to think about so just before the sun came up; it was running and music.

He had confiscated an old T-shirt and sweatpants from the dresser in Charlie's room. It wasn't until Don pulled them on that he noticed splotches of faded brown paint on each item of clothing.

It was during his first stretch outside on the footpath that Don realized the brown splotches on the CalSci shirt & sweatpants matched the color of the paint on the front door.

The clothes that he had on must have been the same ones that Charlie had worn when he repainted the front door in the beginning of March; just before his health started breaking down.

Don stared at the door like it was some sort of time portal. If they all could go back to before Charlie came down with the bronchitis, then he would know what was coming. He would have known to get Charlie on that suppression therapy Cosmos talked about, and Alan would not be threatening to throw tea kettles out the kitchen window and making pleas into the darkness.

Don would have done everything humanely possible (and then some) to make certain that they did not end up where they were now.

The reality, however, was that the door was just a damn door. Nothing more than that.

Another reality: "Despite advances in medicine and technology, and increased awareness of organ donation and transplantation, the gap between supply and demand continues to widen."

Don had read that cold hard fact, last night on the Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network web page. He literally cried on Charlie's laptop (he still kept it in his room) for a solid ten minutes.

Now he stood in the semi-darkness and remembered the phone call from his father the day Charlie decided he was going to paint the door.

He had been so intent on perfectly matching up all his paint strokes that it took Charlie all morning to finish a task that should have taken him no more than two hours at best.

A phone call to his office at 11:00 that same morning, had Don listening as Alan vented about how impossibly slow his brother was at painting. His father also expressed major regret over preaching to Charlie about the need for him to stay on top of the house's substantial upkeep. It had backfired big time because now Charlie's snail pace painting style was driving Alan nuts.

Don almost laughed out loud when his father commented that he was now deathly afraid that if Charlie started painting the trim on each of the house's numerous windows it would be at least a decade before the entire job was completed.

It was also during that same phone call that Alan begged Don to come to dinner and talk Charlie into using a professional house painting company to tackle the trim on all the house's large windows.

Don accepted the dinner offer (with the string attached) because the only thing in his refrigerator at present was a week old pizza box that held just one very dried up slice of pizza.

When Don walked into the house his father lowered the book he was reading, and pointed toward the garage. Alan forewarned Don that "Charlie was in one of his moods."

A mood, no doubt, brought on by Alan's critique of Charlie's painting technique.

Don found his brother in the garage. However, Charlie was definitely not in a bad mood. Upon seeing him; Charlie stepped back from the blackboard and shot Don a welcoming smile.

When Don mentioned that the old man in the next room was under the notion that Charlie was in a grand funk; his sibling laughed. Charlie explained that after a week of listening to Alan go on and on about staying on top of the house's upkeep; Charlie announced the he was going to to paint the front door which rendered Alan speechlessness.

Picturing their father's befuddled expression had Don grinning from ear to ear.

An animated Charlie went on to explain to Don how his meticulously measured painting performance managed to get on their father's last nerve. So much so that a frustrated Alan offered to pay for a professional house painter to do the work that needed to be done on the Craftman's exterior windows.

Charlie revealed to Don that he had already scheduled a house painting company to complete all the work on the exterior windows. They were due to start the work the following week.

His younger brother was unquestionably pleased with himself and even suggested to Don that he go back into the house and claim credit for breaking him down.

A beaming Charlie then picked up in his work right where he had left off.

Don gave the front door one more look before he started his run.

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After his run; Don quietly let himself back into the house. He had just started up the stairs when he heard his father's voice.

"Charlie?" Alan called out. He held the swinging door open with one hand.

The hope that resonated in father's voice stopped Don from moving up another step. His father must have heard the first step squeak and coming thru the swinging door caught sight of the CalSci logo on Charlie's sweatpants.

Don had honestly thought his father would still be asleep or at the very least be in his room getting dressed.

He leaned over the railing and addressed his father: "Dad, it's me."

"Oh, hey."Alan quickly replied. He forced out a smile. "I didn't hear you leave. I was down here tip toeing around thinking you were still asleep."

"I needed to get out and go for a run. I grabbed a pair of sweats from Charlie's room." Don explained. "I did my wash and yours, cleaned the kitchen up, and folded the laundry. Your clothes are in the laundry basket on top of the dryer."

"Thank you," A grateful Alan replied. "And thank you for cleaning out the refrigerator." He wondered how much sleep, his son had actually managed and decided it was better not to ask.

"You don't have to thank me Dad." Don replied. "I'm going to grab a quick shower."

Logically, Alan knew that there was zero possibility that it was Charlie heading up the staircase, but his heart had still held out hope. 

"The coffee's on." Alan called up the stairs.

He walked past the TV and wished again that he had not asked Don to undo Charlie's practical joke. The TV no longer sprung to life at exactly 6:50 AM. Alan took one more look at the silent TV before heading toward the kitchen.

Alan had just pulled two coffee mugs out of one of the kitchen cabinet's when the room's wall mounted phone started ringing. The noise was so unexpected that Alan very nearly dropped both glass mugs. He hurriedly placed them near the coffee machine and made a grab for the phone.

"Hello?" A hesitant Alan questioned the caller. He held his breath, waiting for a response.

"Hey, Dad!," Charlie announced in feigned cheerfulness. He had started out intending on calling his father's cell phone, but became fixated on the word home on his contact list. Charlie missed being home so damn much.

"Hey kiddo," A relieved Alan cried out.

He could almost picture the scowl on his youngest son's face. The fact that Alan still used the term of endearment continued to embarrass both his adult sons.

"How was your night?"

Before Charlie could give his father an answer, he started coughing. He immediately put his hand just above the catheter in his leg as drilled into him by Isabella and Rowan.

He tried swallowing the next cough and that only helped make him gag.

"Charlie!" Alan all but shouted into the telephone. "Get somebody in there to help you."

Charlie managed to squelch the spasm with the remainder of water from what he christened his "adult sippy cup."

Isabella had howled with laughter the first time Charlie used the term for his plastic insulated hospital mug.

Now, whenever Isabella refilled the mug she smiled.

He placed the now empty mug back on the narrow overbed table. Charlie angrily shoved the wheeled table, it wobbled, and the mug tumbled onto the floor. Charlie heard it crack when it made contact with the hard floor.

Charlie actually hated the mug. It bore the St. Vincent's logo on each side and every time that it was set in front of him; it was a reminder that he was no longer home. So when he heard it crack the sound put a smile on Charlie’s face. He thought, “Good riddance.”

"Charlie use your damn call button." Alan demanded. "Get Isabella in there to help you."

"Dad, I'm okay." An out of breath Charlie replied. He was not going to press the call button every time he had a pain or coughed. Isabella was in the room enough and sometimes Charlie just wanted to be left alone.

"Have you seen a respiratory therapist yet this morning?" An increasingly worried Alan inquired.

"Not yet." Charlie answered patiently. He wished his brother had been the one to answer the phone.

"Rowan told me you would see a respiratory therapist first thing in the morning. Where the hell is she?" Alan was working up a good anger.

"He. Dad. Way to be sexist." Charlie replied jokingly.

"Oh," Alan sputtered momentarily. "You're a real smart-ass Charlie." He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had just set himself up.

"I think that fact was established when I was three, Dad." Charlie stated as a matter-of-fact.

Don passing through the TV room heard his father's laughter.

He pushed through the dining room swinging door with a smile on his face.

"Dad, did you get some sleep last night?" Charlie inquired. He was seriously concerned about his father's stress levels.

"Charlie, I slept like a log." Alan lied. It was a moment's like this that reminded Alan what an amazing mother, his Margaret, had been. She was empathetic and caring and passed along those qualities to Charlie and Don. "How are you making out in that department?"

"I wound up asking Rowan for something to help me sleep thru the night. It worked." Charlie lied.

"I'm glad to hear that you asked for some help in that…" Alan began.

"Is Don around?" Charlie asked. He was not impressed when an orderly delivered his breakfast.

"He's standing right here." A disappointed Alan responded. He held the handset out and motioned for Don to take it.

Don shook his head. He had seen the look of disappointment flash across his old man's face: as much as he wanted to talk to Charlie taking the phone's handset from his father would be akin to walking through an uncharted landmine field.

"Tell him that I'll talk to him when we get there." Don quietly requested. He tried to move around his father.

Alan covered the mouthpiece with his hand and hotly whispered, "Oh for heaven's sake, just take it."

He thrust the phone's handset into his noncomplying son's hand. "Your brother is waiting."

It hurt like hell for Alan to relinquish the call.

"Hello?" Charlie called out. He was being to wonder that his father had hung up on him.

"Hey, Charlie." Don quickly answered. He kept watch on his father's movements as he talked.

Alan walked over to the coffee pot and poured a steaming cup of coffee into just one of the two mugs on the counter.

"Great," Don thought as he tracked Alan.

"Hey, can you bring my iPod® and headphones – not the earbuds?" Charlie asked. He figured that Don had been in his room and knew exactly where to find the two items. "Oh, and one of my Calsci water bottles too."

Charlie nodded to his respiratory therapist who had just walked into the room.

"Sure, bro." Don answered.

"Thanks." Charlie said hurriedly.

Don would now have to hunt down his iPod® when he stopped at his apartment. "Anything else you want me to bring?" Don offered. 

Alan's head turned so quickly in Don's direction that he wondered if his father had just given himself whiplash.

"He is NOT getting his laptop." Alan said in his "I'm not kidding" tone of voice.

Don gave his father an exasperated look.

"There are a couple other things I want, but right now I apparently have to have more blood syphoned out of me." A unquestionably unhappy Charlie complained.

Akan Adisa, wheeled a small cart toward Charlie's bed and cracked a smile when he heard the word syphon. Even when Charlie was 'not into having a treatment" the guy was still respectful to Akan.

Charlie held up the universal "give me one more minute" finger.

Akan flashed a thumbs up and pulled up Charlie's chart as he waited for the phone call to end.

"Dad and I will be there soon, bud." Don tried reassuring his strained sounding sibling. He was glad that the respiratory therapist had come in because there was no mistaking that his brother's wheezing was more noticeable than it had been just the day before.

Alan walked toward Don with an expectant look on his face.

"Charlie, Dad wants to…" Don heard a dial tone. He looked down at the hardwood flooring.

Alan dropped his outstretched hand.

"He had to hang up." A wary Don responded. "The respiratory therapist needed blood samples."

"It's about time he showed up." Alan groused. He walked over to the counter and poured coffee into the second mug.

Don relaxed. His father had transferred his anger over to the respiratory therapist.

Alan wanted Charlie well and for that to occur someone else's loved one would have to draw their last breath. Alan has hoped for the past two nights for that very thing to happen. Worry, fear, and guilt kept Alan company 24 hours a day now.

Don watched as his father once again stared vacantly out the kitchen window. He walked over and picked up his father's forgotten coffee.

"Dad?" Don offered the coffee to his father.

"I'm okay Donnie." A grateful Alan Eppes took the mug from his son.

Don knew without a doubt that his father was far from "okay."

And just like before the two men gazed out the window: each lost in their own memories.

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Charlie noticed the door of his room open and as soon as he realized it was not another staff member flashed a genuine smile. He had his cell phone firmly clamped to his ear.

Charlie gave his father a silent thank you when he saw the man holding his iPod® and headphones.

Don followed his father into the room holding one (Charlie had nearly a dozen) Calsci water bottle. He assumed that Charlie had to be talking to Larry because the worried look that his brother has sported since being admitted had been replaced with one of amusement.

Don would have to send the psychist a timely text thanking Larry for lifting Charlie's sagging spirits.

"Hey," Charlie happily called out when he spotted his brother. He pulled his attention momentarily away from his phone conversation.

Don looked on as his brother nodded as if whoever Charlie was speaking to could see his animated answer.

"My Dad and Don just walked in." Charlie stated. He turned his attention away from the phone. "Colby said hi!"

"The caller who had put a smile back on Charlie's face being Colby was not all that surprising to Don. Seeing how the two men had (after some initial bumps in the road) formed a real admiration for each other. Don would have to take Colby out for a drink. Hell, he'd buy the guy dinner.

"Hey Colby, could you tell David and Meghan that I got their voicemails. I'm going to try and call them." Charlie listened intently and then smiled. "Okay. Bye."

Alan could not help but smile. He was happy to see his son so in the moment and not sleeping.

Don, despite being happy over the call, could not help but notice that his brother's movements seemed a lot slower. The pleasure felt over Charlie's good mood evaporated when Don also noted that the large drink on his brother's breakfast tray appeared to have gone untouched.

Don glanced over to see if his father had noticed the change in Charlie or the untouched drink (in a clear disposable cup). The fact that Alan was still smiling, told Don all he needed to know.

Alan walked up to the side of Charlie's bed, leaned over, and carefully wrapped his youngest son in a gentle hug all too mindful of the sound of the balloon in his son’s chest inflating and deflating, the multiple monitors, the endless wires, and IV courses.

After Alan reluctantly let go of his son, he started fluffing up Charlie's pillows, and then helped settle Charlie's head back into the pillows. When Charlie started to cough; Alan grabbed a sterile glove from a box, snapped it on, and as instructed placed his hand just above the catheter on his son's leg.

Don instantly looked for the plastic insulated cup. He rushed to the small sink, grabbed a cup sealed in plastic, tore away the flimsy wrapping, and filled it with cool tap water.

He moved around his father and helped Charlie take several sips of water.

A recovering Charlie thanked both his father and brother.

"Hey," Don said "It was only a glass of water. It's not like I passed you a smuggled in breakfast burrito."

"Man, you don't know how much I wish you had." A sad faced Charlie replied.

Alan, for the first time since entering the room, noticed how the ending word in his son's sentence seemed to float away. He also spotted the untouched drink. It looked to be a fruit smoothie concoction. He shared a concerned look with Don.

The worried exchange was not lost on Charlie.

"So Charlie, what's with the untouched smoothie." Don asked as he inched the cup closer to his reluctant looking sibling.

"It's not what I filled in on my breakfast order." Charlie answered. He had put down every item that Dr. Cosmos had told him to avoid.

Charlie now really wanted that damn burrito. Eating something so tasty would make the nausea that would follow so worth it.

"This is not hotel room service Charlie. A safe guess would be that you ended up with a smoothie because you attempted to skate around your doctor’s dietary suggestions." Alan responded to his miserable looking son.

"Look, if you finish it. I'll order you a nice chicken sandwich for lunch. There's a deli nearby that your brother discovered." Alan offered.

"Are you trying to bribe me?" Charlie questioned. "What am I five?" He could not hide his honest amusement at his father's decades old tactic.

"Hey," Alan shrugged. "I stick with what works."

"If it is on whole grain bread and contains no seasoning or heavy dressings, then who am I to say no." Dr. Cosmos announced from his post in the doorway. "I might put in an order too."

Andrew noted that his off-the-cuff remark actually earned him a rare smile from Don Eppes.

"Sounds like a done deal Charlie." Alan stated with parental authority.

"Hang on there old man." Charlie deadpanned.

Andrew snorted out a laugh. The look on Alan Eppes' face was priceless.

"If I'm stuck with what is basically a bland piece of chicken between two slabs on cardboard (Charlie paused to take a breath) I've got some conditions."

"Of course you do." Don dryly responded.

"I'm listening." Andrew said as he crossed the room and stood at the foot of Charlie's bed. He always made Charlie's room the last stop on his morning rounds.

Don watched as the doctor deftly checked readouts and Charlie's hands, arms and legs without missing a beat in their ongoing conversation.

"No more chunky odd colored smoothies." Charlie stated. He was glad the doctor had stopped fussing with him. He hated seeing the worried expressions on his father and brother's face when they watched Dr. Cosmos.

"Give me a second to think this over." Andrew Cosmos remarked. He checked the notes made by Rowan and Isabella. "Seems you were a real pain in the ass when it came to eating yesterday." The lightness was now gone from Andrew's voice. If he had read that Charlie was also not taking in liquids; the cardiologist would have hit the roof.

He needed his patient (and his family members) to understand how vitally important proper nutritional intake was going to be for Charlie from this point on."

"If I hear from Isabella or Rowan starting from this moment on that you have even dreamed about missing another meal you and I will be having a very in-depth discussion on inadequate nutritional intake and metabolic complications." Andrew warned.

The cardiologist leveled a hard look at his seemingly unmoved patient.

In return, Charlie leveled his own dissatisfied look back at his cardiologist.

Don and Alan stood waiting to see which man blinked first.

All bets were on Charlie.

Don stole a glance at this brother; if the doctor's deeper message had unnerved Charlie; he was not letting it show.

"It was only because of…" Charlie began.

"Each attempt left you feeling nauseated." Andrew interrupted. He watched as Charlie attempted to avoid the heated looks aimed in his direction from his annoyed looking family members. It almost had the doctor feeling sorry for his patient – almost.

"That info would have been helpful to both Isabella and Rowan when the nausea first started.” Andrew Cosmos said sharply.

Charlie stared unhappily at Andrew Cosmos. He did not appreciate the dressing down the doctor was giving him in front of his father and brother. It was making him feel like a ten-year-old child.

"I thought it would go away on its own." Charlie mumbled.

"I'm going to start you on a low dosage anti-nausea medication." Andrew stated. "I'll send Isabella in to give you an injection."

"Wow! Thanks" Charlie replied sarcastically. "That’ll make an even eight meds."

"I'm glad that you are keeping track, Professor" The physician answered. "We can talk later when you're a little less argumentative."

"Whatever." Charlie snapped back.

"Charlie!" Alan exclaimed. He at first thought his son was kidding, but his son's snarky attitude was as real as the dark look Alan received.

Andrew called over his shoulder as he headed toward the door, "Isabella will be in shortly and then you will tackle that smoothie."

Charlie picked up the plastic Starbucks® rip off cup that contained the offending looking smoothie, and appeared to be contemplating dumping it into the trash can by his bed.

"You really think that you're up to going toe to toe with him?" Don questioned his determined looking sibling.

In an act of divine intervention, Isabella appeared.

Charlie quickly placed the cup back on the tray.

Alan glanced at Don and then nodded toward the door.

In father/son shorthand Don understood the motion to mean: Go find Dr. Cosmos. See what all this is about.

As Isabella began preparing Charlie for an injection; Don saw his chance and announced. "Hey, Charlie, I'm going to go hunt down a bathroom."

Alan gave him a barely perceivable nod.

Charlie sensed that something was up between his father and brother.

"You can use the one in this room." He pointed helpfully to the bathroom door. The motion made the drip line attached to his IV bag sway.

"Charlie stop moving." Alan said sharply.

A storm cloud passed over Charlie's face. He was getting really tired of people telling him what to do and when to do it.

Don, standing behind Alan, pantomimed the man's nervous outburst and the childish act had Charlie smirking wickedly.

He barely noticed when Isabella jabbed him with her spear like syringe.

Alan turned and looked accusingly at his eldest son.

Don looked innocently back at Alan.

"It's against hospital rules." Isabella helpfully explained. 

Charlie looked unconvinced. 

""Hey, I didn't make the rule," Isabella replied.”I take it that you never read your patient handbook."

Charlie had thrown it in the trash the moment he fully realized that going home was no longer an option.

"I'll be right back." Don said as he gave his brother's covered toes a gentle squeeze.

He followed Isabella to the door. Don felt his brother's eyes on his back as he crossed the room.

As he held the door open for Isabella; Don heard the following exchange.

"Charlie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"You know you're seriously starting to crimp my comedic styling old man. If you keep it up I'm not going to take you out on the road with me."

Don didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He stepped out into the hallway and began looking around for Andrew Cosmos.

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Andrew Cosmos leaning against the nurses' station speaking to a newly hired staff member noticed Don Eppes expressly headed in his direction.

He pushed away from the desk and squared his shoulders. As expected, the Eppes men all in one room were an exasperating lot.

Isabella watched the two opinionated men squaring off and decided it would be a good time to check out the snack offerings in the furthest vending machine on the floor.

Andrew Cosmos stood with folded arms across his chest.

Don stopped in front of the cardiologist. He took up the exact same authoritative stance.

"What the hell is going on with my brother? One minute he's joking around and the next he's itching for a fight." Don exclaimed.

"I understand your concern." Andrew calmly replied. The disbelieving look on Don Eppes' face, however, told the cardiologist the man was not at all convinced of that fact.

"Did I hear right; Charlie's taking eight different medications?" Don asked.

"Correct,” Andrew Cosmos readily agreed.

"And you don't seem to think that's excessive." Don was not liking the doctor's seemingly unconcerned answer.

Andrew Cosmos took a long moment before he answered.

"Charlie has been started on a multi-drug immunosuppression therapy. The eight medications that have been prescribed for your brother all serve a specific function.

Andrew paused to see if Don was actually taking in the information. The last thing Andrew wanted was to not only be insulted, but find he was being ignored too.

Don's thoughts started to swirl. Something was not adding up.

"Hang on you told us earlier (the days were starting to blur for Don) that Charlie should have been on immunosuppression medication months ago. You said that it would have been during that time frame that those specific meds would have made a greater difference. Why start him on them now?"

Andrew Cosmos looked pointedly at Don Eppes.

It took several seconds before Don spoke again.

"This multi-drug therapy, it’s the only thing you are able to offer him while we wait for a donor heart to become available." Don said quietly.

"Correct, Andrew answered evenly.

There was no point in sugar coating anything for Charlie's older brother; the man would just call Andrew on it.

"There's nothing…" Don began.

"Don, if there was. Believe me Charlie would be on it." Andrew replied. He moved to lay a hand on the struggling man's shoulder.

Don moved away from the doctor's touch. He grasped the direness of the doctor's words. He would not, however, let them affect him – not when he still had to walk back into his brother's room.

"Is it one or a combination of medications that are making him nauseous?" Don asked when he found his voice again.

"It's a toss up," Andrew responded. "The medications are all equally potent. We don't have the time to filter out the medications that are presenting minor side effects. We are going to have to deal with side effects as they appear." Andrew replied.

Don opened his mouth to say something and then shut it. He repeated the process a second time.

"Don, is there anything else you want me to clarify?" Andrew patiently inquired. The cardiologist just wanted to crawl into his bed, but it was clear to him that the extremely intuitive man in front of him had something else on his mind.

Sleep would have to wait. Andrew's bed wasn't going anywhere.

"Toward the end of my Mom's illness, she started losing her appetite and I'm concerned…"

"This is a completely different scenario. Charlie's lack of appetite as of today is because your brother just wants to eat what he no longer can have." Andrew explained.

Andrew wondered when Charlie planned to inform his brother and father that he had both a POLST (Physician Orders for Life-Sustaining Treatment) and an Advanced Directive on file. Last night, the two documents were filled out, witnessed, signed, and a copy of each were placed in his file.

Shortly after Don and Alan left at 7:00 PM last night; Charlie's legal representative arrived at St. Vincent's. The timing was so close that Andrew imagined that the three men surely had to have crossed paths in the lobby or parking lot.

Andrew had signed both documents. Rowan served as a witness.

Rowan later reported to him that Charlie's legal rep had left shortly after Andrew.

It came as a total surprise to Andrew that neither Alan nor Don Eppes were listed by Charlie as his Legally Recognized Decisionmaker.

Don Eppes was only named on the POLST as an additional contact.

Charlie refused Andrew's request to allow him to discuss the documents with Alan and Don. Charlie said that he would be the one to speak to his family members.

Andrew's hands were tied.

The sound of Don Eppes' voice broke into Andrew's thoughts.

"Charlie doesn't deserve any of this." Don angrily stated.

Andrew again reached out to make physical contact and in an unprecedented move; Don Eppes actually allowed it.

"If Charlie's health continues to hold and a donor heart becomes available Dr. Vaidya should encounter no issues during the surgery." Andrew stated cautiously.

"What if his health starts to decline. Would the Transplant Team still consider Charlie a viable candidate?" Don raised his head and locked eyes on Dr. Cosmos.

"Don, there are so many variables that would have to be considered that I just cannot give you a Yes or No answer." Andrew Cosmos replied.

Don heard the word "variables" and it caused an instant series of flashbacks. He remembered the very first time he brought Charlie in to consult. He remembered how excited his brother had been to share his findings with a roomful of FBI agents and its Director and also the moment when Charlie informed Don’s boss that the lottery ticket in his pocket was worthless because of the astronomical odds of the correct combination of numbers being selected.

Don remembered how his brother had sought him out in the crowded conference room.

Andrew Cosmos watched a kaleidoscope of emotions cross the younger man's face. Don bent forward as if he was in physical pain.

Andrew Cosmos snagged the younger man's elbow. "Listen to me." He said soothingly. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," Don responded in a barely audible whisper.

"I've seen enough of your family's dynamics to know that Charlie will continue to fight as long as he believes that you feel there is still a reason to do so." Andrew Cosmos firmly stated.

The moment Andrew noted his observation; Don Eppes straightened, and shook off his support.

"Another major plus for Charlie: he shares your tenacity." Andrew truthfully stated. For around a millisecond there was the briefest smile on the younger man's expression.

"I stopped in to check on Charlie around 2:30 AM. Rowan informed me that he was not really sleeping. I drew up a chair and awaited him out." Andrew commented.

A frown formed on Don's face.

It was becoming all too evident that Charlie had lied about asking for help last night. Now Cosmos had Don wondering what else his brother was not being honest about.

The sound of Andrew Cosmos' voice got Don's attention.

"We wound up talking about life, careers, goals, hopes, and dreams; probably the same topics that come up when you and one of your team members are on a long stakeout."

Don nodded his head in agreement.

This was the first "real" conversation Andrews shared with Charlie's older brother. The man's initial intensity had put Andrew off big time. However, over the past two days it was quite clear that when it came to Charlie; Don Eppes had a major soft spot for his younger brother.

The cardiologist led Don to a semi-secluded waiting area. When the cardiologist lowered himself into a padded chair; Don reluctantly sat across from the older man.

"I have to say that Charlie's a very interesting man. He's like a compilation of Einstein's intellect, Bill Nye's know-it attitude, and there's also a touch of Seinfeld's dry humor." Andrew reported.

"My brother is not a mixture of anyone. Charlie is and always will be one of a kind." Don quickly negated the doctor's opinion.

Andrew Cosmos had to give props to Don Eppes. The man had just informed him in the most diplomatic way possible that he didn't know jack squat when it came to his brother.

"I stand corrected." Andrew Cosmos commented. He threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I think though that we can both agree that your brother loves to talk math." The cardiologist was glad to see a smirk appear on Charlie's protective older sibling's face. "After a while, I just pretended that I still knew what it was he was talking about."

The thought of Charlie befuddling Cosmos had Don breaking into a wide grin.

Andrew Cosmos felt the moment had come to share what Charlie had said to him about his older brother during their pre-dawn conversation.

"You know Charlie lit up when he talked about consulting on cases with you. He has such a deep admiration for you." The cardiologist revealed.

"He's the FBI's unofficial secret weapon." Don replied only half joking.

Andrew picked up on the pride behind the younger man's words.

"It means the world to him that it was you who first saw the possibility of his skill set benefiting the FBI." Andrew reported. He smiled warmly.

Don looked away; he would keep his composure around this man.

A silence formed between the two men.

"I owe him an apology for coming down so hard on him before he was admitted." Don addressed his folded hands.

"Yeah, you do." Andrew quietly replied. "But to tell you the truth, I think Charlie's already over it."

The revelation only increased Don's feelings of regret. Charlie always forgave him way too easily.

"You seriously need to cut yourself some slack." Andrew Cosmos felt the need to point out.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't think about it." Don replied quietly. "My brother tends to internalize a lot of things."

Andrew Cosmos glanced at Don Eppes to see if the man caught the irony of his statement. 

Don knew the older man was only trying to help, but the longer Cosmos talked about his shared conversation the more Don wanted the man to shut up. He couldn't help but think that Charlie should have been sharing his feelings with him: not Cosmos. The man was a virtual stranger.

Andrew Cosmos sensed that he had upset the man seated across from him.

"Your brother needed someone to talk at that moment and in good conscious I was not about to ignore his need simply because we don't share the same gene pool." Andrew waited for a reaction. When none came, he continued. "Sometimes it helps a patient…"

"Charlie," Don corrected the doctor.

Andrew began again. "I believe that Charlie opened up solely because of the fact that we hardly know each other. I'm sure in your line of work people tend to reveal things to you that they have kept from their loved one."

"Of course." Don agreed. "I'm not going to lie, I would have preferred it if Charlie had talked to me."

"That's understandable." Andrew commented.

"Like you said it was 2:30 in the morning and I know that Charlie would never call that early; so thank you for being there." Don said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Don." Andrew Cosmos answered. "Look, I'm heading home to grab a couple hours of sleep." He watched the younger man's head snap up. "Dr. Vaidya is presently in surgery, but she will be in to check on Charlie."

A dead tired Andrew Cosmos pulled himself out of the chair.

"Before you go, I need to know if my brother has made known what…" Don had been putting off having this discussion with Andrew Cosmos.

"Don, any discussion regarding life-sustaining treatments or Advance Directives (Andrew saw the color drain from Don Eppes' face) is a discussion that you have to have with your brother."

"I need to talk to Charlie." Don suddenly announced.

Andrew Cosmos did not like the urgent sound of the announcement.

"Do I need to remind you of how precarious your brother's health is right now?" The cardiologist feared a repeat of the brother's heated encounter.

Don was taken back by the doctor's question. What the hell did Cosmos think he was going to do barrage into Charlie's room and get into a verbal altercation with his critically ill brother?

His surprise was quickly replaced by irritation.

"No, you don't!" Don shot back. "My brother's health is the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night." The urge to punch Cosmos was back. "Having Charlie's back through this nightmare is my only priority."

And just like that the two men were back on their own side of the fence.

"I'm going to go back to Charlie's room now." Don stepped around the towering Cosmos.

Andrew Cosmos watched Charlie's older brother walk down the hallway. There was a determination in the man's stride.

Andrew decided his bed would be fine without him; he would sleep in his office. Better to be close by just in case.

Isabella (with a bag of trail mix hand) watched as Don Eppes walked back toward his brother's room and Andrew Cosmos walked in the direction of his office.

A peace accord had definitely not been reached between the two men.

Isabella watched as Don Eppes stood silently in front of the door to his brother’s room. The man bowed his head, closed his eyes, and then stood sentry-like for several seconds before he put a hand on the door, pushed it open, and walked into the room.

Isabella realized that she had inadvertently witnessed the moment that Don Eppes came to the painful realization that he could lose his brother.


	16. Chapter 16

When Don entered his brother’s room, he had honestly expected Charlie to be anxiously waiting for his return. Instead, Don found his father reading an old magazine that Alan must have found in one of the cabinet drawers and Charlie asleep in the same uncomfortable looking angled position he had been in when Don had hightailed it out of the room to track down Dr. Cosmos.

Glancing at his father it was becoming more obvious that the events of the last couple of days were taking a toll on the man. Alan, was flipping through a magazine but not really concentrating on the pages. He closed the magazine when he noticed that Don had returned. 

To Don, even his father’s smile looked tired.

“He fell asleep about ten minutes ago.” A disappointed sounding Alan Eppes reported. “On the plus side though Charlie finished that god awful looking smoothie.”

“Better him than me,” Don replied only half-joking. The smoothie was not the most appealing looking drink. 

“That makes two of us, “ Alan willingly agreed “He nodded off in the middle of my story about how when I was 14, I was rushed to the hospital because my appendix was about to burst and my father told me how happy he was to now have a legitimate excuse to miss his family reunion.”

“I’m shocked Dad that Charlie couldn’t keep his eyes open during your riveting trip down memory lane.” Don joked. He tried not to notice that even when his father smiled the man still looked incredibly sad.

"You know I actually tried talking myself into believing that Dr. Cosmos had gotten it all wrong.” Alan softly admitted as he watched Charlie sleep.

“Same here Dad,” Don revealed. 

“What did you learn from Dr. Cosmos?” Alan whispered as if he were afraid Charlie might hear the conversation. 

“He said that with the multi-drug therapy, he hopes to keep Charlie in a stable holding pattern.” Don replied. He had made the conscious decision to heavily edit his conversation with Andew Cosmos. 

“You were gone for almost 20 minutes and that’s all you and Dr. Cosmos covered?” Alan was not buying what his son was trying to sell him. 

“We also talked about the topics of discussion during a long stakeout.” Don saw the arc of one of his father’s prominent eyebrows. “Cosmos brought it up not me.”

“I find it hard to believe that…” 

“Hey Dad,” Don decided to quickly change the topic of discussion. “Why don’t you go down to the lounge, stretch out, and try and grab some sleep. It doesn’t make sense for the two of us to be sitting around just waiting for Charlie to wake up.” Don suggested. 

There was a small sofa (that converted to a pull out) but the IABP console was stationed in the same area. It meant that if Don or Alan wanted to stretch out they would be presented with an all-access view of the consoles multiple alarms. 

Neither Don nor Alan have yet to even sit on the couch. They shared the same fear of accidentally bumping into the console. 

Every time Don stepped into the room, he feared hearing one of the console’s alarm systems going off. 

“I don’t know.” Alan said hesitantly. A quick nap would help get him through until seven tonight. There were several times yesterday that he had almost nodded off on Charlie. “I think Charlie would want me to stay.” 

“He’s sleeping, Dad.” Don needlessly pointed out. “You need to catch up on yours.” 

“Why are you being so persistent?” Alan commented as he found himself being helped out of the same chair he had spent almost all of yesterday sitting in. 

“I just don’t think that you should just sit in this chair all day like you did yesterday, Dad. It’s not good for you.” Don answered as he led his father to the door. He helpfully pulled it open for the older man.

Alan looked out into the hallway and then back at his sleeping son and then back away into the hallway. 

Don was about to give up and let his father become one with the damn chair again. 

“Hang on,” Alan said. He pulled the door open a little wider. “Is that Dr. Vaidya?” He pointed to a retreating figure in the busy corridor.

“I don’t…” Don didn’t get to finish his statement. His father disappeared in a flash of motion. He stepped out into the hallway and followed his father’s path. 

Alan had just about caught up to the object of his quest. He stopped when the female physician turned to speak to a staff member and Alan realized that she was not in fact Ana Vaidya. 

He stood in the hallway as other’s rushed past him. Alan looked back in the direction of Charlie’s room and noted Don keeping watch from the doorway. 

Alan found himself just outside the Family Lounge. A helpful staff member held the door open. Alan thanked the woman, but begged off the offer. He headed in the direction of the Meditation Room. A few weeks after his wife’s death; Alan purchased a book entitled, “The Encyclopedia of Gods.” While it did not provide an answer for his Margaret’s dying; it did allow Alan to appreciate many of the 2,500 religious viewpoints represented in the book. He pulled open the door to the mediation room. Alan planned on offering up a prayer for Charlie and if he had to repeat it 2,500 times in order to help save his son; Alan would do exactly that. 

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Don tracked his father’s movements until the man took an unexpected left turn at the end of the hallway. Unwilling to leave Charlie; Don theorized that his father must have gone in search of the Peace Garden that Rowan had mentioned last night. He walked back into the quiet room and took a seat in the same chair that Alan had unwillingly vacated. Don reached for the same magazine that his father had also thumbed through. 

Don quickly flipped through the Healthy Living magazine. The glossy pictures on the recipe pages made his empty stomach growl. He pitched the magazine back onto a nearby cabinet.

Don felt his brother’s gaze. He got out of the chair and leaned on the bed’s railing.

“Hey!” Don happily greeted his brother.

“Hey,” A still visibly tired Charlie parroted back. He gave his brother the smallest of smiles. 

Don tried to convince himself that it was the bed’s overhead lighting that was affecting Charlie’s skin tone and making him look so pale. It was also to blame for making the lines of fatigue on his sibling’s face so much more pronounced. 

“I didn’t wake you. Did I?” Don guiltily asked. He thought that by chucking the magazine he had somehow disturbed his brother’s sleep. 

“No. You didn’t wake me.” Charlie reassured his brother. He took a moment to glance around the room. “Where’s dad?”

The anxiety that was now woven around every word his brother spoke was impossible to overlook. 

“He just stepped out for a minute.” Don calmly answered. The information did little to erase the worried expression on his brother’s face. 

He felt useless. 

“Is he stalking my doctors?” Charlie asked, only half joking. 

“No,” Don replied. “Just stretching his legs.” He nearly laughed at his brother’s unconvinced expression. 

“Not buying it.” Charlie said good-naturedly. 

“You know what we can both agree on (Charlie looked at him intently) that we do our best work when it comes to omitting and avoiding.” Don stated seriously. 

“Is it really omitting and avoiding or just willful ignorance.” Charlie replied. He gave his interrogator a lopsided smile.

If Don was not currently on a mission to get Charlie to confide in him before their father returned; his brother’s attempt at blocking him would have put a smile on Don’s face.

“Charlie, I need to ask you something before Dad comes back.” Don proceeded to put a question to his younger brother that if the world was right and fair Don should never have needed to ask. “Do you have…”

“Yes,” Charlie quickly interceded on his brother’s behalf. This was shaping up to be the second worst moment in Charlie’s life. His brother who always kept his feelings so private looked close to losing control. Charlie instinctively reached out for Don’s hand. 

When he felt his brother’s hand comfortingly patting his own; Don’s knees started to buckle. In an effort to remain upright; Don wound up gripping the bedrail and resting his head on its widest part. 

“Please don’t tell me “It’s okay,” Charlie.” Don announced to the tiled floor. “Because there is not one damn thing that is okay about any of this.” He was working overtime to get his emotions in check. 

“Hey, don’t expect any argument from me.” Charlie offered. “It freaking sucks.” He took a swipe at his eyes while addressing the top of his brother’s head.

Charlie sucked in a needed breath. He had to tell Don that he was not named as his Legally Recognized Decisionmaker and he had to do it now, while his brother was still contemplating the tile pattern of the floor. 

“Don I need…” Charlie began.

“Charlie,” Don suddenly raised his head. He needed to be looking at his brother. 

Charlie lost his train of thought.

“You trust me. Right.” A dead serious Don questioned.

“Yes,” Charlie quickly answered. It might have been an automatic answer, but it was an authentic answer. His trust in his older brother was unconditional.

The decision Charlie had made had nothing at all to do with a lack of trust. It was done so that Don would not have to make any possible end of life decisions in Charlie’s behalf. Bearing that heavy responsibility had nearly crushed his father, which is why Charlie had never even considered Alan. Charlie had honestly thought that by appointing his good friend (of 15 years) and legal representative, Mark Magarian, as his Legally Recognized Decisionmaker it would in the long run help Don recover faster should Charlie not make it to or through the transplant. 

Mark and he had a friendly relationship based on a mutual admiration for each other’s work. There were no deep emotional ties. Charlie recognized that as a lawyer Mark would follow his requests to the “T” and…

Don’s voice broke into his musing. Charlie found his brother looking directly at him.

“I promise you that if it comes to that point I will follow every decision you have mapped out because you made them knowing that they were the right ones for you.” Don pledged. The words hurt and Don struggled to get them out. It was important that Charlie knew his intent. He continued to fight to keep his voice steady. “I won’t let Dad sway me with what he thinks is best.” Don reached down and took his brother’s hand in his. “I have your back.” 

What Charlie believed was that he had made the right decision for the both of them, which was not assigning his brother Power of Attorney or naming Don as his Legally Recognized Decisionmaker. 

Charlie heard himself declare; “I know you do, Don.” 

When Don blinked several times in rapid succession; Charlie gave his brother’s hand a firm squeeze.

Internally, Charlie was in total panic mode. He had to contact Mark and inform him that things had changed. 

“Case closed.” Don said firmly. He had to move them onto another topic because this one was tearing him apart. He never in his wildest dreams thought he would ever be having this conversation at this point in their lives.

Charlie balled up a portion of his cover in each hand. If he had full movement; Charlie would have grabbed his pillow and screamed into it. He had to get on his phone.

“Are you cold?” Don asked helpfully. This he could fix. “Do you need another blanket?” 

“Yeah,” Charlie lied. “Thanks.” Charlie slowly let go of the bunched material. 

“You know, I think I saw one in a closet.” Don replied. He quickly crossed the room, opened an overhead cabinet, and pulled down an identical blanket. He returned to Charlie’s side and carefully laid it out over his brother’s legs and feet. 

“Thanks,” Charlie stated. He moved his left foot to show his gratitude. 

Stealth-like, Isabella entered the room. She smiled like she always did whenever observing an Eppes brotherly moment. 

“Sorry, to rain on your parade gentlemen, but I’m pulling rank,” the nurse announced.

“Izzy I think in the scheme of things that Don out ranks…” Charlie took note of the nurses’ no nonsense expression. “Uh, yeah, never mind.”

Isabella watched a slow smile form on the eldest Eppes’ face. 

“Okay Smiley (she saw a delighted looking Charlie point a finger at his older sibling) time to head out. I’ve got Charlie.” She expertly hooked the man’s elbow and began leading him toward the door.

“When can I come back in?” Don stopped at the door. 

“After I am done. Charlie is scheduled for a light PT therapy. I’d say you are looking at about an hour and a half.” 

Charlie took advantage of the ongoing conversation to grab his cell phone from next to his CalSci water bottle. He started to text like a man possessed. He instructed Mark Magarian, that he wanted a new POLST that named Don Eppes as his Legally Recognized Decisionmaker and an Advanced Directive that gives Don the Power of Attorney to make health care decision in Charlie’s name. He hit send and knowing that Mark lived on his phone waited for a quick response.

Charlie heard Isabella, tell Don that he should try the cafeteria’s version of an Egg Benedict. Charlie smiled when his brother informed Isabella that he “hated eggs” to which she replied “to each his own” and shut the door on Don.

As Isabella approached the bed, she saw the phone. Annoyed, she bit into her tongue to keep from admonishing Charlie. “What,” she wondered “is with these kids today and the need to always be one their phones?”

Charlie took note of his nurse’s all to apparent annoyance.

“I’m just waiting for a response to my text.” He informed Isabella.

“Charlie, you are seriously taking advantage of the hospital’s protocol on cell phone usage by patients.” Isabella replied seriously. 

Charlie merely nodded his head. He had his eyes glued to the phone’s small screen.

“We both know that your brother will be standing outside your door in an hour and twenty-five minutes.” Isabella commented.

“He’ll be back in 75 minutes.” Charlie answered. He was now willing a response to show on the screen.

“Charlie, seriously, we…”

“Can you just give me some time!” Charlie angrily stated. 

The irony of the response left Charlie and Isabella staring at each other. 

The awkward moment ended mercifully when Charlie’s phone vibrated. He gratefully gave his phone, his full attention.

A text from Mark informed him that the updated forms would be delivered via an associate no later than one o’clock. Mark thanked Charlie for thinking so highly of him as to have named him on the original documents, but he stated he was more than willing to hand the responsibility over to his brother. 

Charlie visibly relaxed.

“He would have understood eventually.” Isabella volunteered. 

“No,” Charlie knowingly replied. “He would have hated me into infinity.” 

“And beyond,” Isabella added, hoping to extinguish the remainder of Charlie’s anxiety.

Charlie chuckled. He suppressed a cough which hurt like hell.

“Done,” she asked in reference to his texting.

“Why?, Did you hear something that I haven’t?” Charlie inquired dryly.

The dark humor had first made an appearance this morning after Charlie’s coughing fit. Isabella knew it was a coping mechanism. In fact, after she had laughed at his earlier morbid comment; Charlie told Isabella “he knew she’d get where he was coming from.” 

Charlie smiled. 

She wanted to squish those cheeks, and tell Charlie that he should not be worried. 

Except, Isabella had built a career on never lying to any of her patients. 

She noted the results of Charlie’s earlier blood tests for Andrew (the man really needed to learn the new computer program). Charlie’s platelet count and oxygen levels were less than stellar. 

The two men were going to butt heads over the oxygen issue and this time Andrew Cosmos was not going to allow Charlie to dictate his next move. 

“Isabella?” 

Isabella held in a breath, hoping that he was not going to ask if his blood test results had come in.

“Yes, Charlie.” Isabella stated as she checked his hands.

“Can you take one of these blankets off me. I really only need the one.”

Isabella had no idea why Charlie even had on two blankets as the room was adequately heated. 

“Were you cold?”

“No,” Charlie answered.

“Don?” Isabella inquired even though she already knew the answer. 

Charlie nodded. 

Isabella removed the extra blanket, folded it expertly, and returned it to the closet.


	17. Chapter 17

It required all his skills of persuasion, but Don actually managed to convince his father to walk into the Family Lounge together. The room was far different from the ones that Don had paced miles in during his mother's various hospitalizations.

It was furnished and painted in a warm neutral color. It looked almost like a welcoming hotel lobby. Some wise person on the board at St. Vincent's must have actually taken notice that those heavy metal things passing as sofas and chairs in their waiting areas were neither inviting nor comfortable because they had not been set up in the lounge.

Once in the room, however, Alan refused to move away from the doorway.

In fact, Alan was all but ready to turn around and walk out of the room.

The chairs and sofas located just in front of the lounge's entrance were all occupied. Don quickly scoped out the room (while anchored to his father's elbow) and noticed that in the farthest corner of the room there was a small enclave with unoccupied furniture and a chance for some privacy.

Don nudged his reluctant parent.

Alan did not give up one inch of flooring. 

Don, wrapped an arm around his father's back and led the reluctant man across the room.

"Not that you asked, but I would have preferred the waiting area outside of Charlie's room." Alan unhappily pointed out. 

"The chairs they have there are nothing more than leftover medieval torture devices." Don stated as a matter-of-fact.

Alan laughed softly as he lowered himself onto the cushioned sofa.

Don wanted to wrap himself in the calming sound of his father's laughter.

"That was a good one, Donnie." Alan admitted. He leaned back on the sofa, resting his head on the welcoming cushions.

"I try," Don replied.

"Yeah, you do kiddo and I appreciate it." Alan replied honestly. He then closed his eyes.

"I'll wake you in an hour, Dad." Don commented. If Charlie was seated with them, his overly opinionated sibling would have gladly pointed out (as he was known to do) how much Don truly sucked at accepting compliments.

The recollection resulted in a small smile playing along the tired man's face.

"I thought the whole point of you dragging me in here was so that the two of us could grab a couple minutes of sleep." Alan remarked as he glanced over at his son.

"It was and I will after I answer David's latest text," Don explained. "After I’m done, I'll set my phone to alert me in 55 minutes." He made a great show of stretching out. "Go to sleep, Dad."

The older man's answer was to make a sound that signaled his disbelief.

Don settled back into his cushioned chair. Sleep was the last thing on his mind. In an hour's time, he had received messages from David, Amita, Colby, Meghan, and Larry. Plus, he still had to answer an email sent to him from Ian.

Seeing how he was not sure he wanted to deal with whatever mind game mumbo jumbo Ian had sent; Don took the easy route and pulled up David's text.

"What can I do?"

Don stared at the sentence for several seconds. "What can I do?" It was the same thing he had asked himself repeatedly over the past 24 hours.

While Don had come up with no answer for himself; he made a request of his fellow agent that Don knew would be second nature to David.

"Send some prayers to the man upstairs for Charlie."

A reply came within seconds.

"Already covered."

"Much appreciated," Don answered. He wished he possessed even half he amount of belief in his faith that David carried with him day in and day out.

Sometimes, Don found himself envious of the younger man's commitment.

"Don't worry about keeping Meghan and Colby in the loop. They are currently reading over my shoulders." 

It occurred to Don that his last non-texting conversation with any one of his team members had to have occurred the day before Charlie being admitted to St. Vincent’s.

"Meghan said she'd fill in Larry and Amita. You just focus on Charlie (and Alan). We're dealing here. Colby wants you to reiterate (such a big word!) to Charlie that the minute they lift the ban on unnecessary exposure that we'll all be there."

Don wrote back: "Charlie's big words must be rubbing off. I will pass his message on. I'll try and catch up with you later."

David's next text was not quite as immediate. Don knew it was because his colleague did not want to be intrusive.

How is Charlie today?"

This is what made David Sinclair such a valuable partner; without the need for Don to go into great detail; David sensed that Charlie's situation was now day-to-day.

He started thinking that perhaps he could manage to meet David for a beer after dropping his dad back at the house after visiting hours or after Charlie called it a day; whose hour seemed to get earlier with each passing day.

Don was in serious need of a conversation that did not contain medical jargon or dire warnings.

He responded.

"Holding his own."

Charlie was never supposed to become the go-to guy for the FBI.

Except he did.

He was never supposed to become such an integral part of Don’s team that when he was not around for protracted amounts of time; Meghan, David or Colby (or sometimes all three) would eventually ask "When's Charlie coming back?" 

Except he did.

He was not supposed to become the team's surrogate little brother.

Except he did.

It no longer threw Don to see Meghan, Colby, and David sitting around the dining room table at least once a month.

Charlie was never supposed to remember a particular item from Don's bucket list, a memory gleamed from an odd conversation that took place out on the patio, after they each had an extremely crappy day and then unwisely chose to try and blot it away by downing one too many cold beers.

Except he did.

Two weeks after that conversation, on a quiet Sunday afternoon; Charlie stood in front of the TV and blocked the brutal fight sequence from "Raging Bull." Tired from a long stakeout the previous night, Don grumbled for his annoying sibling to “get the hell out of the way of the TV.” Instead of moving; Charlie wanted to know what Don was doing on April 2nd.” Don further grumbled, “I don’t know probably the same thing I'm doing right now (which was hogging his brother’s sofa and cable). Charlie without another word walked over to the sofa and placed a ticket on Don’s chest. 

“Good God,” was Don’s first thought, “he wants me to attend one of his seminars!”

He immediately started to think of a good excuse.

“It’s not an admission ticket to a seminar.” Charlie had stated.

Don remembered picking up the ticket and seeing that it was a Premium Dodgers Dugout Club ticket and then attempting to hand it back to his brother. Charlie, however, had refused to accept it. 

Which left Don sputtering out reasons why he could not accept the pricey ticket.

Charlie, countered with an announcement that it was an early birthday present, fished his car keys out of the pocket of his jeans, yelled upstairs to their Dad to not count on him for dinner, and before Don managed to untangle himself from the throw cover he had draped around his legs, headed out the front door.

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On the morning of Opening Day, Don woke up with a smile on his face, and allowed his overnight guest to assume that her continued presence was the cause for his good mood. 

Don threw a quick breakfast together and afterwards walked Ava to her car, waved her off and then made a beeline for Charlie’s place.

He had been to Dodgers Stadium at least twenty times, only this time there was no heading out to the back country in search of an elusive parking spot, then walking a mile and a half back to the arena. Nope the tickets came with a premium parking spot and Alan (he was told his ticket was a belated retirement gift), Charlie, and Don leisurely strolled into the stadium.

A huge smile broke out on Don's face when he plopped down in his super cushioned seat, placed a food and drink order (without needing to get up) and settled in to watch batting practice.

It was like he had died and gone to baseball heaven. 

And it only got better.

The pricey tickets afforded them the right to go on the field and meet the players and coaches. 

Don’s facial muscles hurt by the end of the day because he had smiled so much during the outing. 

He had a photo of him, Alan and Charlie striking a pose near 1st base. Don paid to have it professionally matted and framed. It held a place of honor on his bedroom bureau and Don passed it every morning and every night.

Lacking as he was in any real marriage prospects (and truthfully totally content on remaining single) Opening Day was destined to go down as the best day in Don's life.

Don had privately thanked Charlie for arranging the over-the-top gift and he remembered how his brother had grinned from ear to ear and just stated, “I’m happy you had a good time” like he had just paid for a pizza and a movie. 

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Don had to blink several times before attempting to open Ian's email.

It contained a single sentence.

"A leader is a dealer in hope."

The quote was Ian's not-too-subtle way of pointing out that if there came a point where Charlie stopped caring Don would have to dig deep, find a motivating factor, and help convince Charlie to keep fighting.

Don also typed a single sentence.

"A will finds a way."

And then hit send.

Don checked his watch for the fifth time. He still could not return to Charlie's room for at least an hour and ten minutes.

"Donnie," Alan softly called out. He had been stealthfully watching his son for several minutes. "Put the phone away and settle in kid. We're stuck here for at least an hour."

"I know." Don replied. He set an alert for 55 minutes, clipped the phone into its ever present holder, and pushed back into the cushion of his chair until he managed to find a comfortable position.

"Your brother will be mad as hell if you allow yourself to get run down." Alan pointed out for what felt like the hundredth time in two days. He had grabbed about four hours of sleep last night, however, Alan doubted that his worn-out looking son had managed to get even half that amount.

Don, aware that he was now under full parental watch, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

"Less talking and more sleeping, Dad." He good-naturedly advised his concerned looking parent.

Alan knew a con job when he saw one. Memories hit the older man after he noted his eldest son take a peek in his direction.

Even as a child, Don and sleep, were never on the same page. It was like the kid was afraid that if he shut his eyes, events would go on without him ever being aware. Even back then; Don was super-vigilant.

A few minutes after observing the sneak peek; Alan watched as Don's head listed to the left.

"Good," he said quietly. Alan quickly sat up. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He would use the next 40 minutes to answer emails and messages from friends and family members that kept piling up.

At the 40 minute mark; Alan would put his phone away, settle back into the sofa cushion, close his eyes, and allow his son to believe that he too had fallen asleep.

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Dr. Vaidya's appearance at the foot of Charlie's bed minutes after his therapy had him feeling instantly uneasy. The tight look on the doctor’s face did little to settle his nerves.

Charlie had heard that Ana Vaidya only had ten years on him, however, the way she presented and carried herself made her seem a lot older.

Isabella told him that the doctor’s timeworn appearance was because working with Andrew Cosmos aged a person in dog years.

"Charlie," Ana Vaidya announced, "You and I have to have a talk about your platelet and oxygen levels."

"I just got a little winded during PT," Charlie explained. "What did she expect, he thought to himself, when all I do is lay around all day?"

"Your day and night nurse, as well as your Respiratory Therapist all feel that you are now consistently short of breath which is way different than appearing a little winded." Ana Vaidya stated frankly.

"It's not all the time," Charlie hotly protested. He had been on the Cardiac Intensive Care floor long enough to spot the signs that he was about to be put on a new med or hooked up to yet another piece of machinery.

The last thing he wanted was to become tethered to some new machine: because that meant that his prospects of going home any time soon were shrinking once again.

"Last night you appeared to have difficulty following a non-detailed directive from Rowan." Ana stated patiently.

"I was tired." An offended Charlie objected.

"According to Isabella's notes from earlier this morning you stated that you felt a tingling sensation in your right hand." Ana Vaidya addressed her unhappy looking patient.

"I told her my hand felt like it had fallen asleep. I never used the word tingling." Charlie answered, sounding even more defensive.

It had never occurred to Charlie that everything he said (or apparently did not do correctly) was being noted by Isabella and Rowan. He had naively thought that the two nurses and he had formed a mutual admiration society.

When in reality he was just another patient to which Isabella and Rowan had been assigned. Their task was to treat, observe, and compile data on him. End of story.

"Charlie?" Ana stepped around the bed in order to try and regain the man's attention. It felt like she had been vanquished.

When Charlie finally looked back in her direction Ana made sure she continued to stand directly in his line of vision.

"Have I managed to upset…"

"No," Charlie quickly shut the line of questioning down. What was he supposed to tell the doctor? That his feelings were hurt."

He wanted an alarm to go off somewhere which would then force Ana to leave his room and go help (more like bother in Charlie's case) one of her more needier patients.

"Do you want to continue with our discussion?" Ana inquired. She mentally noted his labored breathing.

To say that Ana was annoyed was an understatement at best.

It was very apparent that her colleague, Andrew Cosmos, had allowed Charlie Eppes to get his way for far too long and once again left it up to Ana to drop the hammer on a patient.

"What's going on with my platelet and oxygen levels." A resigned looking Charlie asked. He was hoping against hope that the physician had not picked up on the raspy wheeze that trailed after the last word he uttered.

Charlie watched the merest hike of an eyebrow and knew that she had indeed noticed.

He swore silently to himself.

Ana Viadya had already turned out to be a more formidable opponent than Andrew Cosmos.

Last night, Charlie managed to get Andrew Cosmos to finally agree to allow visits from his close friends. Charlie had successfully worn the man down by continually pointing out that said friends would never come to the hospital if they were indeed sick.

Then Ana Vaidya appeared from out of nowhere. She gave Cosmos a very dark look and issued a "it's the one's who don't know they are symptomatic that are our concern" statement which in turn lead to his cardiologist folding and the ban being reinstated. 

Ana began explaining that after a discussion with Andrew that Charlie would be taken off Heparin® IV and replacing the solution with Argatroban® to try to improve his platelet count.

Charlie grudgingly accepted the change in medication. He figured it would not be long now before he worked his way up to an even dozen meds.

It was when Ana introduced a real need for a Venturi mask (which would deliver a measured high/flow amount of oxygen) that Charlie flat out said he would not consider using the mask. 

After stating calmly to her stony faced patient that a medical necessity was not something she was willing to debate; Ana was held in place by Charlie’s unwavering stare.

Ana thought, "is this where I'm supposed to flinch and give in?" Instead, the surgeon crossed her arms and held her ground. She watched the man’s stare, grow darker.

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While Charlie waited for his brother and father to reappear; he began composing a mental list of all the things that were currently tapping on his very last nerve.

o Bossy individuals (i.e: Ana Vaidya)  
o Changes made to his POLST and Directive.  
o Needing help in order to look presentable each morning.  
o All the unfinished work waiting for his final touches.  
o How much he missed Amita.  
o How much he missed his morning chats with Larry.  
o How much he missed working alongside his brother.  
o How much he missed the camaraderie he had formed with Meghan, Colby and David.  
o The email that came today from the Resort that stated that his credit card had been charged the full amount for his suite: plus a hefty cancellation fee.  
o How much he missed long hot showers (especially after hiking which he missed doing too).  
o How he had to wonder each night (as another day passed without a donor heart) if he had celebrated his last birthday.  
o The guilt he felt for hoping for the past two nights that the individual with a matching heart would hurry up and meet their unfortunate end.  
o Being very aware of the odds of him actually receiving a matching donor heart.  
o Being the root cause of his father and brother's pain.

Charlie nervously watched as the door to his room opened. Don and his dad were back.

He knew they would both be taken back by the sight of him now sporting a nasal cannula.

Don, the first in the room, paused ever so slightly, and then tried to appear unaffected.

Charlie noted a new depth of sadness as it swept across his father’s face.

He thought for a millisecond about pulling off the annoying apparatus and then remembered the dire warning Isabella issued regarding the swift return of Dr. Vaidya.

Alan believed that he had successfully managed to keep a stricken expression off his face as stood by Charlie's bedside.

"It's temporary," Charlie quickly reassured the two men.

It was an outright lie. 

But, despite understanding everything that Ana had told him; Charlie fully intended to cling to the lie as long as possible because the truth of his situation was something that Charlie was still having a hard time believing.


	18. Chapter 18

When Alan and Don returned to Charlie's room there seemed to be a definite change in how his brother interacted with Isabella. A vastly different vibe was going on between the two and the change seemed to be solely Charlie's doing.

Isabella had come in to do her hourly checklist. Charlie was polite but the usual friendly banter that had been occurring between the two was absent.

Charlie, Don observed, had pulled out his "Professor in the classroom" persona.

Alan shot Don a "what did we miss" look.

Don gave an "I have no idea" shrug.

The non-verbal conversation between the two men was interrupted by the shared knowledge that Isabella seemed to be zeroing in on Charlie's, hands, stomach, and ankles.

Don and Alan were not the only one who noticed.

"What?" Charlie questioned Isabella as she replaced the blanket over his exposed feet.

"Are your hands or feet cold?" Isabella answered his question with a question of her own.

"Is this a pass or fail question?" Charlie answered her question with one of his own. Two could play that game.

"Charlie," Alan gently advised his son to stop being deliberately annoying. He glanced at Isabella and for the first time since she had taken on his son's primary care; the nurse looked less than thrilled with Charlie.

"I believe you may have confused our professions Professor Eppes," Isabella cooly noted. "Granted, we both use our observations to help others see things more clearly, but that's where the similarity ends. I have never passed or failed any individual." Isabella stated as she checked the positioning of the catheter in Charlie's leg. Satisfied, she lightly replaced the blanket.

The nurse looked directly at Charlie and announced, "Got it."

Charlie found a sudden interest in one of his cuticles.

"Got it," he finally answered.

"Good," Isabella responded. "And just to clear up any other misconceptions, I would never accept to work one-on-one with a patient unless I felt that they had at least one redeeming quality and I can assure you that Rowan also feels the same way." She paused to let her words sink in. "And you know what Charlie."

"What?" Charlie sheepishly replied.

"You definitely have more than one redeeming quality." Isabella answered with a genuine smile.

Don stood and watched as his younger brother, who had just acted like a bratty ten year old, once again charmed his way out of trouble. 

Alan leaned over and whispered, "He gets all that charisma from his old man."

Don's snickered and it earned him a questioning look from his sibling.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"What?" Don repeated. He plastered his best innocent expression onto his face.

Charlie looked from father to son. It was a long running joke that while he had student admirers the most forward were individuals who had a good 15 to 20 years on Charlie.

"Don't you have crimes to solve," Charlie said to his brother. "And don't you have a resume to update." He said to Alan.

"He is all yours for an hour," Isabella said as she passed Alan on her way out of the room.

"Must be so hard being just so damn cute," A mocking Don offered.

"It's a curse," Charlie deadpanned.

And for the moment; the three men let their guards down and simply enjoyed each others company.

Isabella returned and informed Charlie of a medication change. He was now being prescribed a thiazide to work alongside the loop diuretic already prescribed by Dr. Vaidya. The doctor had also ordered a potassium supplement. Charlie was also informed that he was going to be placed on an erythropoietin that would stimulate the growth of red blood cells, which in turn would help increase the oxygen-carrying capacity in his blood.

Charlie, trying to lighten the moment, joked to Isabella that she owed him at least a sticker for successfully predicting that he would eventually pass being on a dozen meds.

Don watched as a pained expression moved across his father's face. He purposely batted a magazine off the counter.

Charlie jokingly suggested to Isabella that she needed to test him for restless arm syndrome. This resulted in the trio making several jokes at Don's expense and he took them all in stride.

Alan and Don spent the remainder of the morning, keeping Charlie company in between his needing yet another CT and MRI.

After finishing most of his lunch, Charlie fell asleep twenty minutes into a documentary that he had repeatedly told Don and Alan how much he was looking forward to watching.

As soon as it became clear that his brother was sound asleep; Don stealthfully peeled the remote from Charlie's hand. He quickly flipped channels until settling on an old black and white Hitchcock movie that his father always raved about and has seen numerous times.

The moment his father began to lightly snore; Don channel surfed until he stumbled upon the movie "Eight Men Out" and eased back into his chair for yet another afternoon of solo TV viewing.

When Rowan began her shift, she found Alan and Charlie watching an evening news segment on the continuing protests by Buddhist monks in Burma and Don Eppes slumped in a chair sound asleep.

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Thursday morning at 8:10: Alan's cell phone vibrated and danced across the kitchen counter.

In the process of pouring a cup of coffee a startled Alan ended up splattering coffee all over his hand. Disregarding the firestorm spreading across his hand; he made a grab for his phone.

The number featured on the screen was one that was now burned into Alan's brain. He doubted that he would ever forget its sequence.

"Hello," he tentatively addressed the caller.

"Mr. Eppes," Isabella began, "this is not an emergency call.

"Is Charlie, okay?" Alan cautiously questioned the nurse.

Don, coming down the stairs, and hearing the uncertainty in his father's voice, quickened his pace and made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Who are you talking to?" Don loudly whispered.

Alan concentrated on the sound of Isabella’s voice.

"Charlie's experiencing nausea this morning. Dr. Vaidya and Dr. Cosmos feel it is a side effect of Lanoxin®, and the loop and thiazide diuretics. Dr. Vaidya is in with Charlie right now. She is requesting that for today your morning visiting time start at 11." Isabella stated. She knew the delay would disappoint Charlie's father, but pushing back the morning visitation was necessary because Isabella had yet to begin her morning assessments and Charlie still needed to have a chest x-ray.

"Isabella." A calmer Alan addressed his still worried looking son. "Charlie's stomach is protesting the new medication."

Don nodded his understanding. Moving over to the counter, he could not help but think “how did they get to the point where hearing that Charlie was puking his guts up was the least worrisome thing they could hear?”

"Alan, I will let Charlie know about the visiting change." Isabella announced quickly. The call button to Charlie's room caught her attention. She left the work desk and hustled toward his room, Isabella took the small molded kidney tray from a very reluctant looking Ana Vaidya and assisted Charlie as his breakfast made a return visit.

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Alan and Don actually did not get to see Charlie to well after one o’clock. Despite trying to put up a good front; Charlie wound up sleeping off and on for the remainder of the afternoon.

Trying to pin Dr. Vaidya down for any type of one-on-one conversation was proving futile. She held firm to her rule to not discuss Charlie's current medical status unless he also participated in the discussion and seeing how Charlie spent the last day and a half either dozing off and on or sleeping heavily (for noticeably longer periods of time); Alan and Don felt left in the dark.

Dr. Vaidya swept back into the room at 2:15. She pleasantly greeted both Don and Alan before going to Charlie's bedside.

Don and Alan watched her like hawks; each waiting for the optimum moment to discuss with the doctor their growing concerns.

When Ana Viadya moved closer to Alan in order to check some readouts; Alan claimed his moment.

He voiced his concern over Charlie's being so lethargic; he watched as she turned to Charlie who gave the slightest of nods (while in a humorous discussion with Don on whether Colby was born or created on some military installation). Alan was relieved to finally be able to get some answers from Vaidya. 

Ana Vaidya walked Alan toward the door and reassured him that the issue was being addressed, but offered no further information and then made her escape.

Leaving Alan open mouthed and staring at the closed door.

“She’s like Houdini,” he heard Charlie tell Don. 

To which Don replied, “Yeah, well if she patterned herself after Houdini then Cosmos is the real life version of Principal Rooney from ‘Ferris Beller’s Day Off.” 

Alan forgot all about his annoyance with Ana Vaidya the moment he heard his two adult son’s giggling.

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For the first time since being admitted, Charlie, (worn out from his earlier bouts with nausea and vomiting), asked if Don and Alan would consider leaving around 6:00 instead of their usual 7:00 p.m.

Don and Alan were both feeling the effects of another very long afternoon and were actually a little more than willing to oblige Charlie's request.

Alan leaned over the bed's railing. He pretended again, not to notice the apparatus that supplied needed oxygen to Charlie nor hear the whisper like sound the balloon still deep in his son's chest made.

"Kicking us out early better mean that after you have your dinner you'll be getting some extra sleep tonight." Alan smiled down at his weary looking son.

"That's the plan," Charlie answered. The statement was followed by a yawn.

Don briefly thought that the yawn was added for dramatic effect, which would be so Charlie-like, then he took a good long look at his brother: he looked drained.

Charlie felt the stare and gave Don his best smile. At least the best smile that he could muster up.

Don could not help but note that his brother's smile, the one that normally could light up an entire room; lacked its usual warmth and glow.

"Well, if that's the plan who am I to argue, then?" Alan said good-naturedly.

"You're not mad?" Charlie asked cautiously.

"Charlie, how could I be mad at you." Alan smiled at his worried son. He hiked a thumb in Don's direction. "Now your brother that's a whole different story."

"Hey!," Don said, feigning annoyance.

Charlie snorted.

It was a such an unexpected sound that it had Don and Alan almost immediately grinning from ear to ear. 

"You get some sleep and I'll see you first thing in the morning." Alan addressed his youngest son. As he has done since the first night of Charlie's hospitalization, Alan leaned down and whispered into Charlie's ear.

He heard Charlie whisper, "Got it."

Alan gave his son's shoulder a light squeeze before stepping back and allowing Don to take his place by the bed. He moved toward the door and greeted Rowan as she made her way into the room.

"Hey," Don said in a low tone, "I know the plan is to sleep, but if you can't and you want to talk, call me. No matter what the time."

"I will," Charlie assured his hovering sibling.

"I'm serious."

"I will."

"Alright," An appeased Don replied. "I'll see you first thing in the morning."

"I'll be here," Charlie said. He forced a grin onto his face. He really did not know what was draining him faster: his heart or all the pretending he did for his father and brother's sake. It really was a toss up because both were currently sucking the life out of Charlie.

And just like his father, Don also whispered into Charlie's ear.

"Got it," Charlie said quietly.

Don squeezed two of his brother's fingers before reluctantly letting go.

He followed Alan out of the room. Just as the door started to close, he heard the following conversation.

"So I hear tell you had kind of a rocky morning." Rowan addressed her worn out looking patient.

"I'm tired." Charlie said truthfully. 

The statement was quickly followed by a painful sounding coughing spasm.

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When the door silently shut behind him, Don remained standing in the hallway. He attempted to ignore his gut feeling that his exhausted brother was not referring to his need for more sleep.

A staff member, Kaylee Robbie, helped track down Andrew Cosmos' current whereabouts for Alan. She informed him that the doctor was in the midst of an emergency situation, and it was hard to tell when he would be available.

"Damn," Alan grumbled. He had hoped to pin the cardiologist down for information on if he still intended to remove the intra-aortic balloon the next day (Friday). Alan also needed to know what the hell Vaidya's and Cosmos' next move would be once the device was removed.

Everything was happening way too fast and for Alan it was becoming harder and harder to ignore a very real fact: that at this pace Charlie's condition could indeed reach a point where Vaidya and Cosmos had no other stabilizing options to offer him and Charlie’s name could be removed from the national and regional registries.

He knew without a doubt that if those two circumstances became a reality that his logical thinking son would then be faced with making a hard decision. Alan feared the choice that he knew Charlie would make. Just like he feared knowing that once his son made his decision; there would be nothing that he nor Don could argue that would change Charlie’s mind.

Alan could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he briefly wondered if he might on the verge of passing out. Then he realized the effect that would have on not only Charlie, but Don as well and willed the dizzy feeling away.

"Would you like me to leave him a note?" Kaylee questioned. She wondered what the older man had been thinking about that made him look so sad and troubled.

Alan cleared his throat.

"I'll leave a message with his service." He hurriedly explained to the helpful young woman. "Thank you for your help."

He made his way back to Don, who had never moved away from the door to Charlie's room.

"Don?" Alan questioned his seemingly entrenched son. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing Dad." Don softly responded. "Sorry, I must have zoned out there for a minute." He shook his head slightly in hopes of vanquishing the dark thought.

Alan thought Don too had become light headed. For the last four days he had been so focused on Charlie's health that he had not only overlooked his own but Don's too.

"That is exactly what I told you would happen if you went all day without eating again." Alan saw his son open his mouth to reply. "Coffee doesn't count." He had tried to get his stubborn son to eat breakfast and wound up getting shot down. He attempted to bribe him with a small snack (that Alan had thrown into a sandwich bag) while they were in the car. He wound up throwing the bag into a trash can as they entered the hospital's lobby.

"Excuse me, you can’t lecture me when you only had a half glass of OJ and a single slice of toast this morning." Don countered.

"Tonight, you and I are going to sit at the dining room table and we are going to have an actual home cooked meal." Alan hooked his eldest son's elbow and moved him down the hallway.

"You're not cooking, Dad. We'll stop and get…"

"Ms. Gambino from across the street was nice enough to drop off some homemade baked ziti the other day. All I have to do is heat it up." Alan hit the elevator's down button.

As they waited for the elevator to reach their floor; Don became immersed in a memory of the very first time he heard the name: Ms. Gambino.

It had been in early spring. He was sitting out back (with Charlie) on one his brother's wildly expensive patio chairs. They were each having a post-dinner beer.

Ms. Gambino was newly divorced, and according to his gossipy younger sibling had the hots for Alan. Charlie offered up proof: the revelation that Ms. Gambino called twice that month to ask their father if he could come across the street to "fix" something.

Don, in order to get the reaction he craved, made a comment that alluded to what he felt was actually in need of repair in lonely Ms. Gambino’s house. 

Charlie's reaction was priceless. He spit out a mouthful of beer so forcibly that it ended up splashed across his new pair of Rebook sneakers.

Don smiled at the memory. 

"Glad to know that the secret to getting you to smile more is to mention the availability of a home cooked meal." Alan jokingly remarked as he threw an arm around his son's shoulder and guided him into the waiting elevator.

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The ziti was not on the same level as Alan's' but it served its purpose. Don and Alan between the two of them finished 3/4ths of the contents of the white Pyrex® baking dish.

Charlie finished his offering of steamed broccoli and a turkey tasting meatloaf. He picked at what now passed as an acceptable dessert; a small fruit cup (with sugar-free syrup) and there on top a miniscule dollop of sugar free whip cream. Charlie longed for a hot fudge sundae with extra whip cream.

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At 8:00 p.m. Don and Alan full from dinner, headed into the living room, each with the intent to watch a movie while also catching up on emails and texts.

At 8:05 p.m. Andrew Cosmos stopped in front of the door to Charlie's room to begin a discussion he had delayed once already. The cardiologist had no doubts that his patient was not going to be happy with anything Andrew had to tell him.

Rowan walked by Andrew as the doctor placed a shoulder against the door.

"Need some back up," the nurse said good-naturedly.

"I probably will." Andrew answered seriously.

"I'll be in," Rowan responded. The smile disappeared from her face.

"Give me about fifteen minutes." Andrew said to Rowan as he pushed on the door.

Rowan, stood in the hallway, and went into the room immediately after she heard the sound of a tray hitting the floor.

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Don was sprawled out on the sofa with his eyes closed; having given up trying to find something interesting to watch on the television.

Alan was across the room in his favorite chair doing his best to try and concentrate on the words on the pages of the book that he held in his hands.

Don's cell phone sprung to life at 8:37 p.m., breaking the extreme silence in the room. Paranoid that he might fall asleep; Don had switched his phone to ring instead of placing it on its usual vibrating mode.

Startled, Alan dropped his book. Every time a phone rang, chirped, or vibrated now it caused Alan to jump.

Don quickly grabbed his phone. He mouthed a "sorry" to his father. 

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Don had absolutely no interest nor the patience to assign separate ringtones for the multitude of numbers in his contact list. Charlie, on the other hand, after he purchased his latest upgraded cell phone spent the better part of a perfect Saturday afternoon matching every single person on his contact list with a ring tone that he felt went with their personalities.

In a true to form younger sibling move; Charlie assigned the theme song "Secret Agent Man" to Don. It was a selection that Don did not know about until he happened to call Charlie while his brother was in the company of David and Colby. After being been unrelentingly harassed by both David and Colby; Don made Charlie replace it with a nondescript ring tone that lacked (according to Charlie) any sense of originality.

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Don flipped the phone open and glanced at the number displayed on the small screen. He knew the number by heart.

"Is it Charlie?" Alan called out.

Don sat up and nodded to his father.

"Hey," He said to his brother. Don had anticipated getting a call perhaps in the middle of the night. The call coming this early had Don on full alert.

"He rescheduled the balloon removal." Charlie exclaimed in a rush of words

Don immediately knew who the "he" was that his brother now had an issue with.

"I'm sure he had a…."

"It was supposed to come out tomorrow at 4," Charlie stated angrily.

"I know," Don responded sympathetically. Obviously, Charlie had forgotten that Andrew Cosmos had initially stated that while he expected the IABP device to be inserted for up to five days; it could possibly stay in position for the maximum allowance of ten days.

"What's wrong?" A concerned Alan asked. He expected Don to relay Charlie's words to him seconds after they were spoken.

Don held the phone against his chest.

"He's upset." Don stated to his impatient father.

"Why?" Alan instantly shot back. If Charlie had called on the landline Alan would have flown up the stairs, picked up the phone in his room, and joined in on the conversation. 

It left Alan wondering if that was the reason why Charlie had not called on the landline and instead called on his brother’s cell phone.

"Hang on Dad." Don said a tad too gruffly. He placed the phone back to his ear, bowed his head, and avoided looking at his father.

"Now he's not planning on taking it out until Monday." Charlie complained.

His brother's announcement was accompanied by an awful wheeze that Don tried not to hear.

"Charlie, during your initial discussion with…" Don started to explain.

"It gets better," A highly emotional Charlie interrupted. "After the removal, if the arrhythmia returns, Cosmos said there's a good possibility I will have to have a pacemaker implanted." He was losing the battle not to cry.

Charlie had been so looking forward to getting the damn balloon and catheter removed so that he could at least sleep in his regular position again.

"A pacemaker Don!" A choked up Charlie all but shouted into the phone. At first, he thought Andrew Cosmos was making a badly timed joke and then Charlie noted the doctor's stern expression.

The shocked expression on his eldest son's face left Alan unable to make his limbs work properly and he struggled to get out of the chair.

"Buddy, look that's only a potential scenario. Right?" Don searched for the right motivational words (as Edgerton's quote slammed into the front of his brain). "You need to focus on the…"

"What possible scenario?" Alan inquired with his voice now at full volume.

Charlie heard the stress in his father's voice.

"Can you come back?" Charlie all out pleaded. "Please."

"Charlie, there's no way to make it back there by the time visiting hours end at 9." Don responded. It hurt to hear how upset Charlie was and not being able to do anything about it except offer words of support.

"Some support," Don internally berated his effort. "You just told him that his only request was impossible."

It had not escaped Don's notice that his brother had not asked for Alan to also return, and he had no idea what that was all about.

Alan now stood in the middle of the room: looking annoyed as hell. “Why in the world would you tell him there was no way that we could make it back there?” He loudly complained. 

"Rowan said she would look the other way." Charlie commented. "Can you come alone?" He had heard the agitation in his father’s words.

"I doubt it." Don answered honestly.

"Doubt what?" A cross looking Alan questioned. 

Don wisely did not look at his father when he raised a hand to get him to stop talking. It was not long before Don began to feel heated waves of anger flowing in his direction. 

Charlie felt his brother's confusion and attempted to explain why he had come to such an unusual request.

"Don, if he comes here with you, then Dad's going to ask why I'm so upset and "I… I… just don't want to drop all this on him tonight." Charlie used his free hand to wipe the tears that were now sliding down his cheeks. "I see every day that I am here, how it's affecting him."

"You're seeing things." Don quickly volleyed back. He had worried that with so much time on his hands that his bored brother would eventually zero in on something and make it the entire focus of his attention.

Alan was finished waiting. He demanded the phone.

Don pretended he did not hear the request. He thought he heard Charlie mumble "yeah right" about the same time Alan issued his mandate.

"Can you try?" Charlie asked again. This time it was an all out plea.

Don ran a hand through is hair.

Parental intuition told Alan that there was something else Charlie wanted and Don wanted no parts of it. This piece of enlightenment left Alan wondering, "What does Charlie want that's so upsetting?"

All kinds of upsetting thoughts soon flooded Alan's overly tired brain.

"How the hell did Charlie expect him to get out of the house without their father?" Don pondered. The worst scenario had Don dead; the least had Alan feeling deeply hurt.

Don had to be truthful and tell his brother that what Charlie requested was just not possible.

Charlie recognized that his brother's silence was not a good omen.

"Can you try?" Charlie asked for a third time. "I can’t have Dad seeing me like this." He was openly crying now.

"I'll do my best buddy." Don promised. He heard his brother suck in a breath. The pain in Don's stomach was now unrelenting.

He looked up to see that his father already had his car keys in his hand.

There was such a long moment of silence on the phone that Don began to wonder if Charlie had put and end to the call.

"There was a donor heart." Charlie quietly stated. He had forced himself to stop crying. This was going to be a hard discussion. If Charlie had to stop at any point; he just did not think he would be capable of starting the conversation up again.

Don almost jumped off the sofa to celebrate until he realized that his brother had said "there was a donor heart" and not there is a donor heart.

"Charlie?" Don was at a complete loss for words. What the hell was he supposed to say? He had nothing to draw on.

Normally, Charlie would have stopped talking and given Don time to process. Instead, he started talking again. 

"It was viewed as "marginal." Charlie repeated his doctor's words. "Dr. Cosmos said there were indications of mild thickening of the heart muscle and that a member of the transplant team made the decision to turn it down." Charlie managed to croak out. The words hurt to speak almost as much as they had hurt to hear.

This bit of information resulted in Charlie, telling Andrew Cosmos what he thought about the decision and then hurling his food tray.

Rowan appeared by his doctor's side seconds after the tray crash landed.

The idea that Cosmos had obviously arranged for backup almost made Charlie laugh. Almost.

"Hey, there will be…" Don's started. His thoughts were now running wild. There was going to be what? Another opportunity for a donor heart. Knowing Charlie; his brother had probably already calculated the odds of that happening and Don did not want him to share the answer.

"There will be what?" Alan again interrupted. Frustrated, he was seconds away from making a grab for the phone.

Don must have sensed Alan's intent because he looked up and shook his head.

"Only one in three hearts that are donated are actually accepted for transplant." Charlie repeated a recently acquired fact. He started to feel queasy.

Don heard the fear that coated each of brother's words. He was afraid that Charlie was headed for a panic attack. "Where the hell was Rowan?" Don fumed.

As a little kid Charlie always had a thousand questions. Don could picture the scenario that took place; his brother inundating Cosmos with an array of questions and good old Andrew providing Charlie with all the answers.

"The prospect of another…" Charlie began to share another fact.

"I don't care what the odds are Charlie." Don quickly interrupted.

"Give me the damn phone," Alan barked. He leaned over the coffee table.

The intense pleading look on his son's face almost stopped Alan from taking his next breath.

Don continued his conversation.

"Hey, Chuck," Don used the nickname Charlie despised knowing that by doing so he would gain his brother's full attention. "Do you remember that time you informed me what the odds were of us ever forming a close relationship. You said that you based it on our distinct personalities and future career paths?"

He had found something to draw on.

Don waited. He heard his brother's breathing return to a more normal pattern as Charlie searched for the memory.

"That happened eons ago." An unsure sounding Charlie answered.

"Eons are a unit of time equal to a billion years." Don responded. "So less than a billion years ago Charlie what did you tell me the odds were?"

Alan lowered himself onto the corner of the coffee table.

Don waited for his brother's answer. The wait felt like forever.

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Charlie remembered. The conversation took place 11 years, 7 months, 3 days, and 12 hours ago. Don, was headed for Stocken to play Single A Minor League with the Stockton Rangers. Charlie, had watched the whole last week that his brother was still residing in the family home how the level of his brother's happiness grew the closer Don came to putting 338.5 miles between them.

Which was kind of ironic seeing how Charlie had only recently decided to study at MIT for a year, and possibly follow that up by studying abroad (perhaps in Europe) for two years. He intended to put his plan into action as soon as he was legally looked upon as an adult. An adult who was perfectly capable of making his own life decisions. While Charlie was excited about his future studies, he definitely was not looking forward to telling his Mom and Dad about his choices.

Even as an almost adult (he still had five months to go before turning eighteen) it still hurt to know that Don continued to feel that Charlie was the underlying reason behind all of his unhappiness.

So Charlie waited until Don threw the last box of junk into his battered VW to impart on his indifferent sibling some mathematical knowledge that would prove to Don how his heading to Stockton would in no way faze Charlie.

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Charlie snapped out of his musing at the sound of his brother's voice.

"The chances were what Charlie?" Don demanded.

"It was not based on any…"

"Not buying it," Don said with fake annoyance, "you provided examples: one being William and Henry James."

"It was not a scientifically based study," Charlie again disclosed.

"You told me our chances were?" Don persisted.

"Why are you badgering your brother?" An anxious Alan inquired. 

Don shook his head to indicate that was not what was going on. He did not dare hold up a finger to single his father "to wait a minute."

"Minimal at best." Charlie quietly replied.

"Minimal at best and yet it still happened." Don slowly responded. He wanted his brother to concentrate on his every word.

"So what are you suggesting? That I ignore this data?" Charlie questioned. He completely understood his brother's motive for bringing up the long archived incident.

"Yes," Don replied with all the self-assuredness that he could muster up "I say screw the odds, and the data Charlie."

"Ignore the data." Charlie repeated. The idea was simply ludicrous.

"Yep. Ignore it." Don repeated.

"I'll try," Charlie offered.

"Not good enough," Don warned.

"Okay, I will." Charlie conceded. It simply was not in him to do what his brother requested. However, if his agreeing to it made his brother feel better than Charlie would play along.

Charlie gathered up the corner of his bed sheet and used it to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. He had a box of tissues, but earlier in the day George, the food service staff member, moved the box in order to make room for a food tray. The box was now officially MIA.

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Don felt gutted. He bent forward with his hand still clutching the phone to his ear.

Alan sat down on the coffee table directly across from Don. He tapped the younger man's knee to gain his attention.

"I want to talk to him." Alan stated. He held out his hand.

"Charlie, hang on. Dad wants to talk to you." Don cautiously relayed the message. He then passed the phone to his father. Hoping all the while that his brother was indeed hanging on.

"Charlie," Alan said with a faked calmness.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dad," Charlie quickly announced and then ended the call. He shoved the small cell phone under his pillow, and made a grab for the opposite end of his flat sheet.

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Don saw a kaleidoscope of emotions sweep across his father's drawn face.  
"He said that he would see me tomorrow. That was it." A bewildered Alan commented. He still held the cell phone in his hand.

"Dad, Charlie's trying to process a lot right now." Don gently explained.

"Processing what?" Alan questioned. "What exactly did the two of you discuss?" Alan returned his son’s cell phone.

Don took a quick glance at his watch. He would be lucky to make it to St. Vincent's by 9:30.

"Can we table this conversation until…."

"No, we cannot!" Alan said curtly. "Spill it, Donnie."

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Rowan, aware of the phone call, stood in the hallway waiting until Charlie ended the call.

She gave him a few more minutes to collect himself before opening the door only wide enough for her to stick her head into the room.

"Don's coming back?" Rowan questioned the still upset looking man.

"Yes," Charlie answered. He had made a serious mess of the top half of the bed's flat sheet.

"Good," Rowan answered. She was happy to hear that Don was returning. "Is it okay for me to come in?"

"Are you coming in with the intent to poke and prod?" Charlie asked only half-joking.

"Nope," Rowan said truthfully. "I thought we could talk until your brother gets here. Is that okay?"

Charlie waved Rowan in. He was grateful for her company.

Rowan walked into the room, she headed for the closet, and pulled out a sealed sheet.

"I couldn't find my box of tissues," Charlie admitted to the advancing nurse.

"How very unfortunate for the laundry department,' Rowan stated as she ripped open the plastic bag and watched a small smile actually find its way on to Charlie's face.

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"What the hell is going on?" Alan demanded. He leveled Don with a look that let his eldest son know that he was not going anywhere any time soon.

Don proceeded to fill his father in on the details of his conversation with Charlie. He would explain to Charlie that being truthful was the only way Don had a prayer of getting out the front door and into his car.

"The IABP is not coming out until Monday now." Don revealed.

"I'm sure that's disappointing to Charlie, but I'll be honest with you Donnie I am not upset to hear that it's staying in longer." Alan admitted.

He saw the surprised look on his son's face. Alan had heard the doctor's warning about all the dire things that could occur the longer the device remained. In Alan's mind, though the longer it remained the more time it provided.

"It'll help him in the long run." Alan explained.

Don revealed the possible need for Charlie to receive a pacemaker.

"A pacemaker!" Alan exclaimed. "Oh my god! No wonder he's so upset. What the hell was Cosmos thinking unloading all of this on him when we weren't around."

"My thoughts exactly," Don grumbled. He waited until his father recovered from that piece of news. "There's more Dad."

"What the hell else did he spring on Charlie?" Alan demanded. He would definitely have a word with Andrew Cosmos. One hell of a lot of words.

Don repeated the information Charlie gave him regarding the rejected donor heart.

Shocked, Alan struggled to form a complete, coherent sentence.

"Marginal." Alan repeated the word slowly as if he were trying to figure out if he had actually heard the correct word. "It was rejected." Feeling sick to his stomach; Alan tried to concentrate on his folded hands. "Who had the authority to make that decision?" An ashen-faced Alan looked over at Don for the answer.

"Charlie just said it was someone on the transplant team." Don replied. The ongoing conversation with his father was taking a lot longer than anticipated. While Don did not want to get up and walk out on an obviously upset man, it was a priority that he get back to Charlie. More than thirty minutes had already passed since Don told Charlie that he would be heading back and that he would do his best to keep Alan at home.

Don could not help it, he checked his watch for the third time.

"Do you need to leave?" Alan asked. "Are you meeting one of your co-workers?"

"No," Don shook his head. "I promised Charlie that I would come back and keep him company."

Alan jumped off the coffee table and quickly headed for the foyer. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier. We could have had this conversation in the car." Alan pulled out the car keys he had placed back into the pocket of his pants. "I'll drive this time."

"Uh, Dad, Charlie wants…" Don said as he caught up with his father.

Alan turned and pointed at his son. "Don't you even think for one minute that I am staying here." He walked to the front door.

This was going about as well as Don had expected. It was also eating up even more time.  
"He asked if I could come by myself." Don stated. He instantly regretted how cold the words sounded.

"Why doesn't Charlie want to see me?” A shocked Alan responded. “Did I do something to upset him today?" The wounded man could not believe what he had just heard.

"No, Dad. You've been amazing with Charlie." Don explained. He wanted to reach and hug his dad. However, that would lead to tears and Don did not have time to console his crying father. He racked his brain to try and clarify his brother's request. "Dad, you more than anyone else understands what Charlie’s like when he has a lot of time on his hands." He watched his father shake his head in agreement. "He goes out of his way to find something to focus on. Right now, unfortunately, he has settled on the idea that his diagnosis is severely affecting your health."

"But I'm fine." Alan responded. He almost laughed at the non-believing expression on his son’s face. "Okay, maybe fine is a stretch." Alan ran a hand through his hair. "I mean I go into that room every day with a smile on my face and I try my best to keep things light just so Charlie will see that I am handling everything that has been going on with him."

"I know Dad." Don said comfortingly. He was not about to tell his father that despite all his good intentions that Charlie was not buying his act.

"I don't understand why Charlie's not focused on you too." Alan wondered aloud. "I mean this is affecting you too."

"Tomorrow might be my turn dad. I don't know. All I know is that right now, Charlie's focused on you." Don offered.

Alan opened the door. "I'm going. If Charlie still doesn't want to see me. I'll sit in the waiting area and hope that he’ll eventually change his mind."

It was a compromise that Don was willing to accept in order to get back to St. Vincent's. He imagined that Charlie had to be wondering where the hell he was by now. He was probably thinking that Don had decided it was easier to stay put than to get into a drawn out argument with Alan. 

Charlie had not called back. That was not a good sign.

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Alan and Don had just started walking down the lighted pathway when Don's cell phone, clipped to his belt, vibrated.

Alan's cell phone followed suit a mere second or two after Don's.

Each man grabbed for their device. They each had a panicked look on their face.

This was the first instance that both Don and Alan were called simultaneously since Charlie was admitted to St. Vincent's.

Don walked onto the grass, as he opened his phone.

Alan stayed on the pathway. He would not have been able to make his legs work at this moment if he tried. He pulled his phone open.

The two men stared at each other as they addressed the individual who had gotten their heart's racing.

Don and Alan were each given the same message: The intra-aortic balloon had ruptured. The initial attempt to remove the balloon had proved unsuccessful and this indicated intra-aortic entrapment. The vascular surgical team was currently attempting a removal under imaging guidance. Don and Alan were both asked to return to St. Vincent's.

Don pointed to his SUV.

Alan Eppes could not move.

As Don approached, he cried, "Please tell me this is not happening."

Don remained silent. He grabbed his father's hand and lead him/pulled him toward the SUV.


	19. Chapter 19

Kaylee Robbie, seated in front of a monitor behind the nurses' station, took a break from entering seemingly endless quantities of information on current patients, when Don and Alan Eppes walked back onto the Critical Cardiac Care unit.

She became a homing beacon for the two men. Alan and Don headed straight for Kaylee's work station.

"I received a call in regards to, my son: Charles Edward Eppes. He is under the care of Andrew Cosmos and on an IABP." Alan hurriedly stated. He threw in as much information as he assumed the nurse needed with the hope of being awarded with quick answers.

Alan continued when no answers were issued.

"We received a message to return to St. Vincent's due to a rupture in the IA Balloon. The message also stated that there was a possibility of entrapment. Has the balloon been removed? Is Charlie in his room? Can we see him?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Eppes, but the answer to your last three questions are all: no, " Kaylee patiently responded. "The removal procedure is presently being performed in the Cath Lab by Dr. Anhad: an outstanding vascular surgeon. Dr. Anhad's team is one of the best. Dr. Cosmos is also in the Cath Lab with your son. As soon as Dr. Cosmos has an opportunity to speak with you both I am confident that he will answer all your questions."

Kaylee hated this part of the job; keeping family members at bay until doctors could magically appear to offer updates. On tough days it was like being fed to the lions.

"We were told to come back!" Alan protested.

"Let me get this straight," An annoyed Don said as he approached the desk. He leaned on the counter (purposely creating less space between himself and the non-helping staff member). "My father and I received the same message about the rupturing of Charlie's IA Balloon and all you can tell us is that Dr. Cosmos will come and talk to us eventually. Sorry, that's not acceptable!"

Kaylee, not a seasoned veteran like so many other staffers on the unit, fought the urge to place her index finger squarely in the middle of the dark-haired man's forehead and give him a little push. She had been brought up in a household with four brothers all of whom also excelled in intimidation.

Kaylee had only recently celebrated her two year nursing anniversary. She might only have 24 months under her belt, but in that limited amount of time she had come to understand that fear and anger produced sides of individuals that rarely (if ever) surfaced for others to see.

Kaylee figured that the super intense man waiting for information that she simply did not have most likely used tactics of intimidation in his profession because he was very very good at looking scary.

"I'm sorry, but I am not at liberty to expand on the original message that you and your father received. However, what I can tell you is that as soon as…"

"I heard your initial response." Don tersely replied.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. Don had almost forgotten that his father was also part of this conversation.

"Please excuse my son," Alan addressed the young woman. "We're both a little stressed." Alan gave Don a look that silently told him to give the young woman a break. He turned his attention back to the non-flustered nurse. "Could you please find out anything that you can on how Charlie is doing? Don and I both appreciate your concern."

"Of course Mr. Eppes." Kaylee answered. She gave Alan a warm smile. Don, however, did not receive one.

Feeling adrift, Alan and Don headed off in the direction of the waiting area located close to Charlie's room.

"Please, spare me the "you can collect more bees with honey than vinegar" analogy or any other pearls of wisdom." Don grumbled. "You know as well as I do that Nurse Smiley Face was giving us the run around."

"I know that!" A frustrated Alan Eppes exclaimed. "Just like I know that you went out of your way to alienate her." The older man complained. "I would appreciate it if you left me with at least one staff member who is not afraid to approach us."

Alan quickened his pace.

An equally frustrated Don Eppes followed his father down the hallway, but at a much slower pace. He decided that there would be no apology offered to the nurse until it was clear that she had in fact done her best to get information on Charlie. Apology aside, Don's priority right now was to get his father prepared for what could turn out to be a very long night.

Alan reached the waiting area and stopped on a dime.

He spotted Rowan stepping out of Charlie's room.

Alan headed straight for the nurse.

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Rowan looked up just in time to see a very determined looking Alan Eppes headed in her direction.

"Rowan, could you please tell me what happened after we left?" Alan passionately stated. Internally, he was screaming "tell me what the hell is happening to my son."

Alan felt the presence of his son now directly behind him; under any other circumstance Don's close proximity would have given Alan a sense of security.

Don, once again, interjected himself into an ongoing conversation.

"We were told to come back here and when we get here, there is not one staff member who appears to be able to answer any of our questions." Don noted. He had switched to his "control the chaos" voice: the one he employed in the office/field when a case that appeared to be a slam dunk suddenly hit the rim and all hell was about to break out.

"Let's not have this conversation in the hallway," Rowan responded. She nodded an acknowledgment to a passing colleague.

She opened the door and ushered the two men inside.

The first thing that Don noted when he walked into the room was the silence. The second thing he noted was the bed: the bedding looked crisp, new, all its edges were expertly tucked in. The third thing: every personal item that belonged to Charlie were gone.

The abrupt changes in the room and the lack of any sign that his brother had ever actually been in the bed upset Don. He turned to look at his father.

It was apparent by the expression on is father's face that Alan was having a tough time as well.

A dismayed Alan looked around the room and inquired in an unsteady sounding voice. "Where are all of Charlie's belongings?"

Missing from view were Charlie's IPod® and headphones, his ever present phone, a paperback book and several magazines. The reading material were poor substitutes for the laptop that Charlie daily requested.

Alan did not care how many times his exhausted son asked for his damn laptop. He fully intended to keep the time consuming device out of his hands. It would remain where it has been since Charlie's admittance: in Don's old bedroom.

"I placed all of your son's personal items out of sight until Charlie is discharged from the PAC unit. The bed well, that's simply because I don't know anyone who wants to get back into an unkempt bed." Rowan reassured the two men.

She did not think at this uncertain juncture that Alan and Don Eppes needed to know that she had to pick up the scattered items after Charlie was taken out of the room or that movements born of sheer panic caused Charlie to pull out an IV line, helped the catheter in his leg to migrate, and popped two sutures; thus requiring the sheets on his bed to be changed.

Rowan knew she would remember the sequence of events for a very long time.

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She started talking about everything under the sun to prevent Charlie from taking another look at the wall mounted clock.

Charlie had just started telling her about a good friend named Larry when he suddenly exclaimed "something is wrong."

When Rowan moved to the bed's railing; Charlie reached out and put a death grip on her hand.

No alarms had sounded that would suggest any issue with the pump or the IA balloon. Rowan noted though that a miniscule amount of blood was slowly collecting in the inflation channel. She hit the call button and issued a code.

As she uttered the numbers; Charlie looked at her and Rowan doubted she would ever forget how huge his eyes appeared to get.

As quickly as Charlie had taken hold of her hand; Rowan felt him let go. She noted that his chest rose and fell in an alarmingly uneven pace.

In the blink of an eye; there was a contingency of medical personnel flowing into the small room.

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"Thank you for doing all of this Rowan." An appreciative Alan stated. "It was just disconcerting to walk in here and…"

"My fault." Rowan admitted. "I should have given you a heads up in the hallway." She observed Don looking intently at the bed. He gave Rowan a look that told her that he was not buying her story about her wanting to simply straighten things up.

Thankfully, Don Eppes kept his skepticism to himself.

"Can you tell us what happened after we left?" Alan persisted. He had missed the brief interaction between the nurse and his son.

"Why did Charlie end up back in the Cath Lab?" Don added.

"After his discussion with Dr. Cosmos; Charlie needed some time alone," Rowan carefully stated. "Dr. Cosmos and I both stepped out of the room. When Charlie ended his phone conversation; I poked my head in and asked if he wanted some company for a little while."

She wisely chose not to finish her thought.

"While he waited for me." Don finished the woman's sentence.

"Charlie and I had a much earlier discussion about the possibility of your return." Rowan cautiously answered.

"It was my fault," Alan offered. "I caused the delay."

"Honestly, Mr. Eppes it would not have mattered if you and Don (she looked directly at the younger Eppes) had been able to head back here right after speaking with Charlie. The rupture occurred seventeen minutes after I came back into the room." Rowan explained. She decided an abbreviated version of the night's event would suffice for now.

"What purpose would it serve to tell them that Charlie had complained about a searing pain in his back? Or reveal the blood that had collected. Or how terrified Charlie looked?"

And Rowan was definitely not going to reveal how before being sedated; Charlie tried to look for a familiar face at the foot of his bed.

"I am just very grateful that you were in the room when this happened Rowan," Alan said honestly. "Don and I would not have known what to do to help Charlie. So in this instance I am glad we were running late."

Don did not share in his father's grateful take on the unexpected situation. He knew without a doubt that at some stage during the unfolding crisis that Charlie had expected to see him.

"To answer your question, Don." Rowan answered. "The Cath Lab is fully equipped to handle this type of emergency. Dr. Anhad is amazing and has the skills to bring about a successful removal." Rowan skipped over how a successful removal was measured by the lack of arterial injuries or perforations.

"The message also mentioned a possible entrapment. Have you heard anything about that at all? What can go wrong if the balloon is trapped? How experienced is this Dr. Anhad with entrapments?" Alan continued to question Rowan. "Is Charlie in…"

"Mr. Eppes, I have every faith in the fact that as a team, we reacted quickly enough to the situation that the balloon, in fact, did not become entrapped." Rowan responded confidently. "I spoke with a member of the Cath Lab about seven minutes ago and he said that things were going very smoothly.

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She could not help but wonder why the two staff members who called Don and Alan had provided them with so much information. Rowan sincerely hoped that it would come down to it being two unsure newbies who merely mirrored each other during a stressful situation. Rowan might then be able to sell it to Andrew Cosmos as a learning experience which hopefully would keep the surgeon's legendary anger to a near bearable limit.

However, should it end up having been two seasoned staff members who had called Alan and Don Eppes it could mean a reassignment to a grinder position: a post known for its ability to grind the life out of a staff member.

Andrew Cosmos may no longer be the numero uno cardiologist to LA's well connected, but he nevertheless continued to fill beds with insured patients; which always made the members of the Board happy.

Either way Rowan would not want to be either one of the two staff members.

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"Maybe we, should we wait outside the Cath Lab?" Alan wondered aloud. The last thing he wanted was to miss any opportunity to speak with Andrew Cosmos or the vascular surgeon, Dr. Anhad.

"I already informed a member of the Cath Lab staff that when the opportunity for a discussion presented itself that you and Don would be waiting for Dr. Cosmos in Charlie's room." Rowan answered reassuringly. She wanted to give the worn out man a hug (but that small compassionate act was now considered a big no no with the hospital's legal administrator).

"At some point, will we be able to see Charlie?" Don asked. "I mean before he's brought back here (which Don realized could be hours).

"Due to a strict PAC Unit's policy; only one family member will be admitted and the visit is limited to five minutes." Rowan informed both men.

This seemed like a good time to step out of the room and let the two men work out an agreement. She glanced at Don Eppes; he appeared upset at the thought of not being able to go see his brother.

"I'm going to step out and see if there are any updates." Rowan said. She then quietly left the room.

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Alan, who had slept and eaten very little during the past three and a half days, who swallowed his heart every time the phone rang, who could not vanquish the apprehensive feeling that followed him everywhere, looked over at Don and totally misread the expression on his eldest son's face.

In a haze of confusion the frayed man made an incorrect assumption; he honestly thought that Don was going to challenge what Alan saw as his paternal right to be the one to visit with Charlie.

Alan, drained, afraid and angry, locked in on the only other living, breathing soul in the room.

Don had a bad sense of déjà vu when his father looked over at him. He thought to himself, "Here we go again."

"I will ask a PAC staff member if they could make an exception when I go back and visit with Charlie." Alan stated out of the blue.

Don went with what he hoped was a safe noncombative reply.

"Okay."

He had already begrudgingly accepted the fact that he was not going to the PAC Unit.

Don thought that would be the end of it; his father was going and that's the way it should be.

"You know I had very little one-on-one time with Charlie the last night that he was home." Alan complained.

"Hold on," Don declared. This go around, he was going to take a stand. "Dad, you asked me to go up and talk to him."

"I was the one who arranged the Zonies appointment, but you were the one who went with him." A non-hearing Alan Eppes pointed out.

Don felt like he had been transported to some alternate universe where up was down and wrong was right.

"Because Charlie asked me if I would drive him." Don answered.

He wanted to add that maybe it was because Alan kept henpecking Charlie, but that remark would have gained him death by paternal verbal vesceration. Don would keep that opinion to himself and try like hell to remain patient. He recognized that his father was working through his anger over Charlie's latest medical scare. However, armed with that knowledge did not make his father's words sting any less.

"Do you have an answer for everything." Alan countered. He took a seat at the far end of the sofa while Don remained a safe distance away perched on the other arm of the sofa.

The two men sat in stony silence for several minutes. Don stared at his clasped hands. Alan stared off at a far wall.

Without a word; Don got up and walked over to where his father was seated, knelt down, and placed his hand on top of Alan's. He waited for their eyes to meet.

"No. I wish I had the answer that would solve all of this for Charlie." Don said quietly. "Because if I did I'd give it up in a second." He started to move away.

Alan quickly reached out and caught hold of his son's hand.

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Alan had said horrible, hurtful things to his son not once, but twice. His brain was fried and his heart was breaking, but Alan knew the difference between right and wrong; and what he had just done again was so so wrong. He needed to get a hold of his anger before it caused the kind of damage that an apology would never be able to fix.

Sometime tomorrow, Alan decided he would call his old therapist. Dr. Thomas had been a tremendous help to him after Margaret' death. It was Dr. Thomas, who had made Alan see that even though he was now without his wife's buffering skills; Alan, was perfectly capable of maintaining a relationship with Charlie. She also made Alan see that he was leaning on and relying on Don too much.

Alan, seeing the pain he had just caused, prayed that Dr. Thomas would be able to fit him in.

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"Donnie, the hurtful things I just said… That was so wrong of me." A apologetic Alan admitted. He tried but failed to stop the tears.

"Dad, it's okay." An emotional Don responded. He had never intended to bring is father to tears.

"No, it's not!" Alan exclaimed. "You are an amazing son and brother." Alan wiped his cheeks. "And I am so so sorry."

Don wanted this conversation to be over with. He hated seeing his father in pain. The conversation was becoming far too centered on him.

"Look, Dad, we're both on the edge. You just happened to jump first." Don said. He threw in a small smile as a means to show his father that he was okay.

Alan was not buying the smile. He had seen his son smile through pain before. He plowed on.

"The truth is Donnie, that I was so relieved when you volunteered to go up and talk to Charlie because I was tired of trying to deal with him when he got short tempered." Alan confessed aloud. The guilt over having pawned Charlie off on his brother and then the jealousy he felt towards Don pretty much sealed the fact for Alan that in both instances he had been a horrible father.

Don needed a piece of gum.

"I ignored my gut feelings. I convinced myself that there were a dozen other reasons why your brother was becoming so unCharlie like. I didn't even question the times when he said he would be working in the solarium and I would take something up to him and discover him sound asleep on the sofa bed." Alan stated. "I just continued to let things slide."

"Dad, stop!" Don forcibly exclaimed. He could not in good conscious just sit and listen as his father beat himself up. "Charlie's an adult. He could have at any time during these last couple of weeks told either one of us that he wasn't feeling well. He chose not to do that."

"Why didn't he just say something?" Alan looked to his son for some kind of insight.

"Because he didn't want us to worry, especially if it turned out to be nothing." Don revealed. He had managed to stop his father from heaping unnecessary guilt on himself, but now Don felt horrible for having dragged his brother through the mud.

"The first time in a long time that one of his theories was absolutely, positively wrong." Alan replied sadly.

A silence settled between the two men. Don stealthily checked his phone for messages. Alan picked up a dated TIME® magazine.

Don looked up from his phone, grabbed an entertainment magazine, and wordlessly replaced the magazine in his father's hands.

He put the TIME® magazine with a cover story on "killer" heart disease, back on the coffee table with its back cover now in full view.

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Andrew Cosmos emerged from the PAC unit and immediately headed in the direction of Charlie Eppes' room.

Don felt a slight breeze created when the door opened.

Alan followed his son's gaze and momentarily forgot how to swallow when he noted the imposing figure of Andrew Cosmos in the doorway.

Don helped his father to his feet and the three men met in the middle of the room.

"The IA balloon is out." Andrew happily reported. "We did not face an entrapment issue due to two factors: how quickly Rowan reacted and the expertise of Dr. Anhad, who heads the vascular surgical team.

"No entrapment," a relieved Alan whispered. He was thankful that at least one of his prayers had been answered.

Don felt the first prickle of annoyance over how it appeared (at least to him) that Andrew Cosmos somehow felt that this was a case of no harm - no foul. Not in Don's book. Something had gone terribly wrong and he wanted to know why.

"How long before Charlie is brought back here?" Alan questioned the doctor.

"Charlie has been moved to the Post-Anesthesia Care Unit. He'll be there for at least an hour – possibly two. He's stable. Rowan is with him. She'll be watching for any changes. Charlie will be lightly sedated for the at least the next five hours and if no issues arise; we'll begin weaning him off the sedation. All things considered you're looking at between six or seven in the morning before he is fully aware of his surroundings."

"We'll be here when he wakes up." Don stated. "My dad will sleep on the sofa and I'll take the chair."

"That's not necessary." The ill thought out statement earned Andrew an exceedingly dark look. He backpedaled. "However, you and your father are more than welcome to stay." Andrew Cosmos answered with a forced smile. The last thing he wanted was to be under Don Eppes' scrutiny every time he came into the room to check on his patient tonight. 

"Is this a setback for Charlie?" Don questioned the annoyed looking doctor.

"It's a rare occurrence that we would have liked to have avoided." The cardiologist replied.

"Then why wasn't it, then?" Don questioned. He went straight for it. "What caused the rupture?" He did not like that Andrew Cosmos appeared ruffled. Don continued when no answer appeared forthcoming. "A placement error, a design flaw or is this "rare occurrence" as you called it going to be written off as something Charlie must have done?"

Don was surprised when his father did not offer up an apology for his alienating manner of questioning.

Instead, he heard his father inquire. "How did this happen?"

The fact that Andrew Cosmos had called a significant medical crisis that involved his son an "occurrence" no matter how rare; did not sit well with Alan.

The pissed off expression on Don's face told Alan that his son felt the same way.

"Could this night get any worse?" Andrew thought to himself.

He had not come into the room expecting an inquiry. Usually family members thanked Andrew profusely for saving their loved one and he was on his way out of the room in ten minutes time.

He folded his arms across his chest before speaking again.

"Unless Charlie somehow managed to get himself up and out of bed there is nothing he could have done to cause the rupture. A design flaw in the portable IAB pumps designed by HomniTech was discovered in 2001 and the FDA issued a recall on several of their systems. However, our IABP contract is with Meditec in Switzerland and their systems have never faced an FDA recall."

Andrew turned and addressed the youngest member of the circle.

"To answer your first question: the placement of the balloon went smoothly. Due to Charlie's small stature, I made the decision to use a 30 cc Polyethylene balloon, a size 7 catheter, and a size 8 sheath. Protocol was followed from implantation to removal. There will be a review conducted by the Patient Safety Board and I have no doubt that it will be determined that an abrasion of the IAB membrane was the direct cause for the rupture.

Andrew felt absolutely certain that he had done nothing that would have led to the rupture. However, being cross-examined by Don Eppes had activated the eccrine sweat glands in his hands and Andrew was forced to place his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

"What would cause this abrasion?" Alan jumped back into the conversation.

"Calcified plaque." Andrew replied. He gratefully turned his attention back to Alan Eppes.

"I positioned the tip of the IAB below the subclavian artery and the balloon membrane in the descending thoracic aorta and out of the abdominal aorta which is where one generally finds more more calcified plaque. However, it appears in your son's case…"

"You're telling us that some rogue piece of calcified plaque pierced the IAB membrane. My brother's a couple months shy of 29 not 95." Don stated roughly.

"Your brother's heart has been so decimated by the GCM that at this point it could pass for a 95 year-olds heart!" Andrew barked back. When he heard Alan Eppes take in a sharp breath Andrew instantly regretted losing his temper.

The doctor's shocking assessment left Don without words.

Alan, stood quietly, as he tried to process the cardiologist's last statement.

"Dad, maybe you should go see Charlie now." Don suggested. He moved closer to his father.

Alan shook off the suggestion. He still had questions that needed answers.

"Will what happened today have any impact on Charlie's "urgent need" status?" A troubled Alan inquired. Seeing how the cardiologist had not fully answered the question when it was asked by Don.

"Charlie's status will not change." Andrew quickly replied.

Alan nodded his head in acknowledgement. He felt Don's arms snake across his shoulders.

"We'd like to see Charlie now." Alan stated. He presented Andrew Cosmos with an unwavering look. "Either together or separately."

Don dropped his arm and looked at his father in surprise.

"PAC visitation is not something I would typically insert myself into." Andrew answered stiffly.

"Then I suggest you get on the phone, contact a PAC staff member, throw your substantial weight around, and tell them that Don and I are on our way to see Charlie." Alan replied. He took hold of his son's elbow and maneuvered a now smirking Don around the stunned looking surgeon.

Andrew heard the door whoosh shut.

He had gotten Alan Eppes' unspoken message, "You purposely hurt my son with your statement. Make it happen."

Andrew walked over to the wall mounted phone, wiped his hand on his lab coat before picking up the receiver, and punched out an extension.


	20. Chapter 20

As they approached the PAC Unit, Don grew concerned that seeing Charlie so soon after the IAB removal was not in his father’s best interest. Alan had been put through hell this week. It was becoming a virtual given that Don would hear Alan moving around the house in the pre-dawn hours.

The freezer now held so many dinner selections that the Eppes household could now outlast any type of apocalypse.

Don reached out to stop his father in order to voice his concern. He missed his chance.

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Alan Eppes had been thrown when he walked through the PAC unit's doors; but he was determined not to let his son nor any of the unit's staff members become aware of that fact.

He only had five minutes with Charlie and Alan was not going to waste one minute of it being fussed over.

After being directed to Charlie's half curtained bed: Alan asked Rowan several pertinent questions while a PAC staff member checked the dressing on Charlie's leg.

When they were finally able; Don and Alan stood as close as they could to Charlie's bedside having become skilled at maneuvering around IV poles, monitors and consoles.

Alan wanted so much to believe that his son was sleeping naturally; but the oxygen delivery system and all the other medical apparatus Charlie still needed made that scenario impossible to swallow.

It had been growing harder and harder for Alan to keep a smile plastered on his face in Charlie's presence. He guiltily felt a sense of relief over the fact that for the next five minutes he would not have to force a smile.

"You all right, Dad?" Don questioned his troubled looking father.

"No," Alan answered honestly. He could not take his eyes off his youngest son. The IABP had been a stop gap measure and now it was gone and its removal had significantly increased Alan's apprehension.

Don threw an arm around his father's shoulders and gently pulled Alan closer.

"He looks okay." Alan quietly commented.

Don had no idea if his father was simply making a statement or in need of some reassurance.

He took a hard look at his unaware sibling and immediately noted that while Charlie was still way too pale, the etched fine lines near the corner of his brother's eyes (placed there by tension and stress) appeared less pronounced. This led Don to contemplate whether or not somewhere in Charlie's fogged up brain his brother had gotten a sense that the balloon was out and that he was free of all its restrictions.

Don was relieved that Charlie was no longer encumbered by the pump. However, that relief was now shadowed by a worry over exactly what Charlie might do now that he was no longer under the IABP restrictions. 

"Yeah, Dad," Don finally responded. "He looks okay."

Both men were well aware that had Charlie actually been awake; they would have been awarded with a much more honest health assessment.

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Don and Alan had both tried for the other not to show any anxiety when two hours and five minutes showed on the wall clock and there was still no sign of Charlie.

Alan, gave up the pretense of not being concerned, and started pacing when the clock ticked off another five minutes.

Don was in the process of unwrapping his second piece of gum when Rowan appeared in the doorway.

Alan immediately stopped pacing.

Don ceased his preoccupation with the gum wrapper.

"Everything is fine." Rowan said quickly. "It'll just be another 15 to 20 minutes.” She left as quickly as she had appeared.

Alan lowered himself onto the sofa. In the moment between Rowan appearing in the doorway and her giving the update; Alan had been holding his breath.

Don threw the halfway unwrapped piece of gum into a nearby trash can.

"I'm going to go get you something to drink." He announced on his way to the door.

"She said it was only going to be another fifteen minutes, Donnie." Alan purposely used his eldest son's childhood nickname knowing that it always gained him his son's full attention. "Wait until Charlie's…"

"Dad, we've been dealing with this place long enough to know that in here, there's no such thing as "just another 15 to 20 minutes." Don replied. "Hang tight. Trust me, I'll be back here before Charlie."

Don returned 18 minutes later to a still waiting and aggravated Alan Eppes. He handed his father a small bag of salt-free sourdough pretzels and a bottle of OJ from the vending machine one floor down; which he had discovered (in a previous hunt) contained a wider snack selection.

"I'll go and find out what the hold up is this time." Don stated.

"I'm coming with you," Alan replied. He placed the two items on a nearby counter.

Don knew there was no arguing with his father.

They had made it to the middle of the room when the door opened and two unfamiliar staff members streamed into the room.

Charlie was back.

Alan and Don quickly moved out of the way. They stood in a far corner; each silently counting the minutes until the duo left and they would be able to be alone with Charlie.

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Don and Alan agreed that it served no purpose for the both of them to be sitting and staring at Charlie for the next four to five hours. Each man agreed to take a two hour block of time in which to grab some sleep. Much to his dismay; Don lost the coin toss. He begrudily made his way over to the sofa grumbling all the way about how he was sure that Alan had somehow rigged the outcome.

An hour and a half into his shift, Alan thought he saw the slightest movement of Charlie's head.

Rowan, in for another assessment, told a defensive Alan Eppes that his son had hours to go before coming out from under the anesthesia. She suggested to Alan that perhaps he should follow his son’s example and pointed over to a sleeping Don.

Alan just nodded. Isabella had meant well. However, Alan knew that what he had observed was not just wishful hoping on his part.

When the nurse left the room; Alan leaned over the bed rail and spoke quietly. 

"She doesn't know you like I do. Charlie. Rest for now. Don and I will be here when you wake." Alan gently laid a hand along the still man's jaw line and cheek and then returned to his chair.

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When Don awoke, exactly thirty minutes later, without the aid of any type of advanced notice; Alan gave his wide awake eldest son a soft squeeze on his shoulder as they traded posts.

Don's two hour shift crept slowly towards a two and half hour shift. He knew that he was expected to wake his father, but Don just did not have the heart to disturb the exhausted man.

Three hours into his shift; Don smiled at Rowan when the nurse stopped in and announced that she was there "to check on all the Eppes men."

Rowan assured Don that Charlie would be coming out from under the anesthesia in his own due time. She knew the two men well enough now to know that they were each keeping track of every hour that passed.

When Rowan left; Don rose from his chair with the intent on finally rousing his father. Instead, he stood transfixed and watched as three of Charlie's fingers began to slowly move.

A light snore from across the room, let Don know his father was still sleeping soundly.

He watched as a heavy-lidded brother seemed to be trying to peer out from the narrowest of slits.

Don thought about going to the end of the bed with the hope of appearing in his brothers' limited range of vision until he watched as Charlie's hand inched toward where the catheter had been embedded in his thigh.

He quickly moved around to the other side of the bed to take hold of Charlie's wandering hand. Don was caught off guard when he heard his sibling mumble softly. Charlie had talked in such a low tone that Don had not been able to untangle the jumbled words. Just hearing the sound of his brother's voice left Don smiling. 

Before Don could offer up his familiar "hey" greeting Charlie's eyelids slid shut. Disappointed, Don leaned against the bed's railing; he held on to his brother's hand for another minute before placing it back to its original resting spot.

He had to look twice before it clicked in Don's tired brain that there was indeed a small smile pulling at the corners of Charlie's mouth. Don tried to convince himself that the crooked smile (that was now gone) was nothing more than a sign that Charlie was working his way out from under a haze of pain killers and anesthesia.

Charlie was still on a legal high and for all Don knew was having a really nice dream about dancing Chihuahuas.

Except, Don knew that smile. Eight times out of ten it meant that Charlie was processing information and creating the means in which to turn a theory into reality.

The wheels were turning in Charlie's brain, albeit much slower than normal, but they were turning nonetheless, and whatever it was that Charlie was plotting; Don was fairly certain it was not going to make anyone but Charlie happy.

"You were supposed to wake me an hour and ten minutes ago." Alan needlessly pointed out as he took over Don's old post.

"Charlie was still so out of it that it just didn't make any sense to wake you." Don knew the moment he finished his sentence that his father had taken hold of one word – was. 

"He’s starting to wake up!" Alan looked expectantly at the still form on the bed.

“He opened his eyes briefly.” Don cautiously volunteered. He did not want to give his father the erroneous impression that Charlie was minutes away from joining them in the here and now.

"I'll take briefly." Alan answered. He smiled at his youngest son."Did he say anything?” Alan wondered aloud. The wait to hear Charlie's voice again felt endless.

"He mumbled something but I couldn't make it out." Don replied honestly. 

"All this waiting is making me antsy." Alan admitted.

"I know the feeling Dad." Don said. Waiting patiently had never been something he excelled at either. 

Without realizing it; Don and Alan were both using their index finger to tap on the bed rail. 

Don was the first to notice. “We should stop tapping before Charlie starts thinking that we’re trying to send him a message in morse code.”

He was happy to see his remark put a smile on his father’s face. 

"I guess I'll have my snack and drink now," A preoccupied Alan stated. He took the bottle off the counter and then returned to the sofa.

Don sat down in the chair. He proceeded to unwrap yet another stick of gum.

The wait was on. Once more.

Without meaning to both Don and Alan nodded off.

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Isabella came into the room to make the first assessment of her shift. She smiled at the sight of the three sleeping Eppes.

With her assessment complete and armed with the knowledge that Charlie had moved from sedation to sleep; Isabella quietly left the room.

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Don reached up and kneaded the painful knot in his neck. He jolted upright when the realization hit that he had fallen asleep. Glancing at his watch; Don's first shock came when he realized that he had fallen asleep for almost thirty eight minutes.

His second shock came when he glanced up and found that Charlie was watching him. 

The happiness he felt after seeing those familiar brown eyes was almost eclipsed by Don's embarrassment at having been caught sleeping on the job. He all but jumped out of the chair and leaned against the bed in an attempt to get as close to his brother as possible without actually throwing himself on Charlie.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You're back." Don happily addressed his brother.

"Yeah," Charlie answered slowly. "Loud snoring." He hoped he had managed to form a complete sentence. The effort it took to just get out those limited amount of words felt like Charlie had just recited the Gettysburg Address. When his brother smiled; Charlie decided that the string of words that had tumbled out of his mouth must have made some kind of sense. Charlie felt detached like he was present but not really. 

He wondered if the feeling would become his new norm. 

"That was not me." Don answered. He saw a troubled expression wash across his brother’s drawn face. 

“I banned Dad!” A suddenly emotional Charlie recalled. The fog surrounding his brain was starting to dissipate. 

“Dad’s here, Charlie.” Don pointed across the room. He then motioned with his hand for Alan to quickly join him. 

Don was not sure how long this moment with Charlie would last. 

"Good.” A relieved Charlie responded. “I remember my back hurting.” 

As if on cue Alan appeared at the bed's railing.

"Which is why the balloon had to be removed." Alan said. This was not the time to bog Charlie down with a lot of details. He had kept it brief as suggested by Dr. Cosmos.

Charlie was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Good,” Charlie said again. He shook his head slightly to keep himself awake. "I can go home now.” 

Don and Alan looked at each other: both at a loss for words.

Charlie being at home (a thirty-five minute drive in light traffic) instead of being at St. Vincent's was in Don’s eyes a recipe for disaster. After this latest scare the only safe place for Charlie (in Don’s opinion) happened to be right where he was now -- a call button away from help.

Alan was the first to recover his composure.

"Charlie, you’ve just had another medical procedure.” Alan cautiously stated. 

"A health care professional could come to the house.” Charlie said with conviction. His brain was working once again. He had another excellent idea -- offer to buy out either Rowan’s or Isabellas’s contract with St. Vincent’s. 

It was all going to come together. The perfection of his plan puts a smile on Charlie’s face.

Alan noted the smile. It was Charlie’s “I am so brilliant” smile. A plan has been formulated. Alan knew if he outright dismissed his strong-willed son’s harebrained idea; Charlie would dig in even deeper. He had to appear to accept the general idea and then carefully offer suggestions. 

"Charlie, that would work (Alan ignored his eldest son’s “Are you insane” expression) You could arrange for it to start in a couple of days, but right now…”

"Monday.” Charlie interrupted. He should have known that his father would try to run a fake out play. 

“We’ll discuss this some more after you get some rest.” Alan remarked.

“I’m sorry, but there is no “we” when it comes to my medical decisions. Dad.” Charle replied carefully. Here was the opening that Charlie had been hoping for and he needed to take advantage of it. He continued, “I have everything in writing.”

Charlie watched the color drain from his father’s face. It was going exactly as he had feared.

“Change the subject,” the words screamed in Alan’s head. 

“I wonder if it’s too late to order a breakfast?” He asked no one in particular.

A knowing look passed between Charlie and Don.

“Isabella said she would take care of it when she stopped in earlier.” Don addressed his dazed looking father. 

The Directive conversation was shelved. 

“It’s okay, Dad. I’m not really hungry.” Charlie admitted. He was actually feeling a little nauseous which Charlie wrote off as a byproduct of his latest drug intake. 

It had not been his intention to upset his father, but Charlie felt it was time to try and bring the subject to the forefront. He had tried a couple times before, however, his father’s smiling face always caused Charlie to shelve the idea. 

A pinch of pain caught Charlie’s attention. The stupid balloon was still making him uncomfortable and it was not even part of him anymore.

Charlie yawned. He jokingly wondered if they had siphoned out all his remaining energy along with the balloon. He never should have let Cosmos talk him into the IABP. He could have been home days ago.

He could no longer keep his eyes open even as a thought filled his head.

A day had 1440 minutes. A week had 10,800 minutes. A month had 43,800 and 6 months had 262,800 minutes. Charlie knew without a new heart he would not be around to experience another 262,800 minutes. He did, however, hope to experience at the very least another 43,800 minutes.

Alan turned his attention to Don.

"Like hell he’s leaving here Monday.” Alan loudly whispered. 

Don nodded his head in the direction of the bed.

“I heard that, Dad.” Charlie quietly proclaimed. He shifted in the bed trying to get comfortable. 

Don smiled at his younger brother’s comment which of course earned him a fatherly glare. 

"You’re impossibly stubborn.” Alan addressed his youngest son. 

This time there was no comeback comment from Charlie. 

Alan ran a shaking hand through his hair.

“Is it too early for a drink?” Alan asked his eldest son. He was only half-joking. 

“I’ll get you a coffee.” Don volunteered. 

"No. Stay. I'll go.” Alan said as he made his way towards the door. “I need to clear my head.”

Once the door shut; Don stood at the bed railing and announced, “Dad’s gone Charlie if you’re just lying there faking it.” 

Satisfied that his brother was truly asleep, Don settled back into the chair and pulled out his phone.

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By chance Alan spotted Andrew Cosmos on his way out of his office. Juggling two cups of coffee, he picked up some speed and managed to catch up with the quick moving doctor. 

Andrew Cosmos heard his name being called. He had made arrangements to pass his morning rounds onto Ana so that he could go home and sleep. He plastered on a smile when Alan Eppes appeared at his side. 

"Alan, how can I help you," Andrew inquired. He sincerely hoped it was going to be a short discussion.

Andrew had thought wrong.

Alan started by asking Andrew about the validity of Charlie's quest to return home. Alan looked surprised to learn that it just might be a possibility. It would not take place Monday, but possibly later in the upcoming week.

"How? My son doesn't even have the strength to get out of bed?" Alan inquired. He was pretty confident that he had just met the individual who had placed the wild idea in Charlie's head.

"Alan, I think going home after Charlie undergoes a BIVAD procedure is actually quite feasible. It would give Charlie a goal to work towards. If there’s one thing I know about your son is that he is goal oriented.”

Andrew could tell by Alan Eppes expression that the man was completely against the idea. Andrew did not have the time to argue that it was not Alan's decision to make. 

He glanced quickly at his watch and then continued. "A biventricular assist device would serve as a bridge to transplant. Just as the IABP was to be used as a bridge to BIVAD. It could give Charlie up to six months as he waits for a new heart."

Andrew went on to explain to Alan exactly what the implantation of a BIVAD device could do for his son.

"Why the hell wasn’t it implanted when Charlie was already undergoing the balloon removal?" Alan privately wondered.

Alan tried to phrase his next question as diplomatically as possible.

Andrew Cosmos, took umbrage to Alan's line of questioning. Even so, he gave Charlie’s father an explanation as to why he felt giving his son a break between procedures was in Charlie’s best interest and in the long run would prove to be beneficial. Andrew stressed how it would have been too much of a strain on Charlie’s badly weakened heart to follow through with implanting the BIVAD so quickly after removing the IA Balloon.

Andrew then begged off with a "call me if you have any more questions" and walked toward the nurses station in order to sign off on another patient’s file. 

Alan felt like the doctor had just told him without actually saying it that his son was an adult and that any discussion over Charlie possibly going home did not require Alan’s input whatsoever. 

Alan could not help but feel as he walked toward the vending machine area that Andrew Cosmos made a better doctor than he did a human being. 

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Charlie's eyelids flew open. The ping was back. In the time it took Charlie to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead; his heartbeat went from what passed for his new normal to something akin to having just finished running the Boston Marathon while horrendously out of shape.

He tried not to panic; knowing that panicking increased his heart rate and blood pressure. When trying to stay calm failed; Charlie’s breathing increased. 

For one brief moment; a struggling Charlie wondered if his not having faith in a higher power tipped his chances of living a longer life in the negative. When the ping of pain became a gong; Charlie had a major revelation: he had his own sense of faith.

"Don!" Charlie called out.

Don had sprung out of his seat the moment he saw the uptick on the BPM monitor. He was by the bed rail the moment that Charlie called out his name.

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Alan was four doors down from his son’s room with a cup of coffee in each hand when he watched Andrew Cosmos and Isabella bolt from behind the nurses desk. 

He was two doors away when a code was issued.

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Don tried to process what was unfolding in front of him. However, his brain was refusing to accept it.

He had managed to hold onto Charlie's hand until Isabella broke the connection when she wedged herself between Don and the bed.

By the time he stepped out of everyone's way; Don found himself over near the doorway. He heard Andrew Cosmos calling for oxygen levels and then a female voice talking about arterial blood gas. Eventually all the words and phrases that bounced off every level surface started sounding like rolling thunder in Don’s ears. 

There were now so many bodies around Charlie's bed that they created a wall that kept Don from catching another glimpse of his brother.

He heard Andrew Cosmos voice barking orders, watched the man take total control of the unraveling situation, and then look in his direction.

Andrew Cosmos yelled at a newbie looking staff member who had just come into the room.

"Get him the hell out of here!" Andrew bellowed. He pointed in Don's direction.

Before Don had a chance to react the scrub attired individual threw open the door and pushed Don into the hallway.

Don attempted to push open the door, however, it failed to open more than a few centimeters. He theorized that the staff member who had thrown him out of the room had been instructed to stand on the other side of the door.

Needing to know what was happening inside the room; Don was all set to use his full body weight in order to open the door.

"Donnie?"

Alan stood frozen in the center of the hallway just a stone's throw away.

For as many years as Alan had left on this earth he knew with absolute certainty that he would never forget the anguished look on his eldest son's face when Don turned and looked in his direction.


	21. Chapter 21

Alan's knees began to buckle. If it had not been for three fast moving staff members (the one who grabbed his coffee cups and the two who each took hold of an elbow) he would have ended up on the floor in a soggy mess.

Alan was led to the adjacent waiting area by the two elbow holders; who lowered him into a chair and then like bookends sat either side of him; each taking turns quietly talking to him.

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The voice in Don's head was ordering him to get over to his father. He just could not get his feet to move; afraid that if he did his struggling sibling would sense that Don was once again not where Charlie needed him to be.

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Alan eventually lost one of his hand holding bookends because she had to administer medication to several patients.

He lost his other bookend when a loud argument broke out between two family members in front of the vending machine at the far end of the hallway.

Alan slumped forward in his chair, hands clasped together, head bowed.

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Kaylee, having poured the hot coffee into a sink behind the nurses desk, now approached Don Eppes with a sense of purpose.

She understood the man's reluctance, but, that did little to stop the feeling of wanting to take hold of one of his arms and pull Don Eppes in the direction of the waiting area.

Kaylee stood in front of The Intimadator; leaving just enough space between them as to not have Don Eppes go off on her for crowding him.

"Right now, there are several staff members looking after Charlie." She informed the sad-eyed man. "Your father, however, is over there, sitting by himself." She pointed to the shell shocked Alan Eppes. "He needs you."

Even with the realization that what he had just been told him was the truth; Don still could not make himself move away from the doorway.

"I promise that I will come get you if there is a need." Kaylee stated truthfully. It was hard to believe that this lost looking man was the same strong willed personality that Kaylee had met at the very start of her double shift.

She was about to try one more time to reason with the immobile Don Eppes when without saying a word he walked around her.

The waiting area was just across the hall from Charlie's room. To Don, (once he reached his father), it felt like a mile.

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Alan, who had been staring at his folded hands, glanced up when a familiar pair of well-worn black thick soled shoes came into view.

"What happened?" Alan asked quietly. He was fighting like hell to not fall completely apart.

"I was going through my messages," Don slowly began. "Charlie woke up suddenly. He called for me and…" For the first time in a very long time, Don found himself struggling to recall precise details.

"I was just about to push the call button when Cosmos and Isabella arrived." He recalled.

"Was Charlie…" Alan tried to find the words. "Was he aware of what was happening?"

Don had no idea how to answer his father's question without causing the man further pain. He bought time by clearing his throat.

"Don?" Alan tried again. He needed his son to provide him with an answer.

A reluctant Don looked at everything around him, but his own father. He was weighing his options.

"What exactly am I supposed to do?" Don internally debated. "Be honest and tell him that he had never seen Charlie look so frightened (even taking into account the first time a bullet whizzed past Charlie's head). How the hell would knowing that Charlie had been terrified help his father?"

Don decided being honest was not in his father's best interest.

"No, Dad." Don finally answered. He saw a moment of relief in his father's eyes.

Alan's feeling of relief was soon replaced by one of confusion.

"I don't understand," He stated. "You said that Charlie called out for you. At that point he had to be…" The question died on Alan's lips when Andrew Cosmos emerged from his son's room.

Don, also noted the cardiologist approaching. He offered a hand to his struggling father and helped steady Alan as the shaken man got to his feet.

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Andrew Cosmos wished like hell that Alan Eppes had remained seated.

"Alan, Don, we need to have a conversation." Andrew Cosmos proposed.

A family of four had just settled into chairs directly behind Don and Alan.

"Let's find a more private setting." Andrew stated.

He swiftly shepherded the two men to a nearby conference room. It was a bad moment for Andrew; his first discussion (in regards to Charlie’s health) with Alan and Don Eppes had taken place a mere five days ago and now Andrew had to inform the two men that their loved one’s decline was occurring at a pace faster than Andrew had anticipated. 

Andrew pulled the door open, poked his head inside, then stood holding the door.

Don guided his father the short distance with a firm grip on the older man's elbow. He could feel his father leaning into him for support.

Alan went into the room first. Don followed. Neither man addressed the looming cardiologist.

Andrew did not take offense: having learned eons ago that no one liked to acknowledge the bearer of bad news.

He asked each man if they would like a chair, both Don and Alan declined his offer and remained standing (the two in a mirror image folded arms stance).

Andrew knew what Alan Eppes wanted from him: a direct approach (per the man's recent phone message). Alan did not want Andrew to "take it easy on him," even if it was what Don had decreed. Alan had ended his phone message by informing Andrew that despite both of his son's best intentions, he wanted Andrew to keep him completely informed.

Everything about Charlie's treatment up to this point had been a one-step forward/two-steps back frustrating process. However, with each setback the Eppes were able to regroup. Andrew sincerely hoped that the inner resilience that each man possessed would continue to carry them through this troubling journey.

Andrew was about to put Alan and Don Eppes through the grinder. Once more.

"Charlie experienced another V-Tach (ventricular tachycardia). However, unlike the previous VT this time his blood pressure dropped dramatically." Andrew said straightforwardly.

The cardiologist saw Don Eppes open his mouth. Andrew quickly pressed on.

He explained how Charlie received (IV) Procainamide an anti-arrhythmic agent, Tropol XL®, a stronger beta blocker, magnesium sulfate, more IV fluids, blood pressure support, all of which would require even closer monitoring.

That's what now… twenty medications?" Don wondered aloud.

"It sounds excessive, but that's where we are now." Andrew answered patiently. "Thankfully, we were not dealing with a monomorphic VT which would have required immediate electrical cardioversion."

Andrew Cosmos were never going to miss this part of his job.

"Electrical cardioversion," Alan slowly repeated. He could not believe he was actually having this discussion in regards to his youngest son.

Don turned a second too late in Andrew Cosmos' direction to indicate to the doctor that his father did not need further clarification; to let the discussion end.

"There are two versions of cardioversion: chemical and electrical cardioversion." The cardiologist stated. "Chemical involves using medication to convert unstable cardiac arrhythmia back to a normal sinus rhythm in a patient. Whereas, electrical cardioversion uses a shock to the chest to deliver…"

"Chemical." Alan said slowly. "This VT was treated with medication."

Don quickly snaked an arm around his father's back.

"Yes, Dad." Don said calmly. "It was treated with medication." He held eye contact with his father until he was sure the message was understood. The moment prevented Don from informing Andrew Cosmos that the man was an unthinking idiot.

"Today we got lucky." Andrew remarked. His off-the-cuff comment earned Andrew an even deeper displeased look from Charlie's older brother.

"It was the truth," Andrew sullenly mused, "they had gotten incredibly lucky today."

"What about an hour from now?" Alan questioned. "Six hours. Twelve hours. Tomorrow?" He did not want to hear about luck. He wanted to hear about ways to control the next VT. 

Andrew chose his next words very carefully.

"In a heart failure patient faced with arrhythmias/VT's there are treatment options: an implantable ICD or catheter ablation. In Charlie's case, the GCM diagnosis changed the course of his treatment. At this point, Charlie's not an ideal prospect for either an ICD or a catheter ablation."

Don, tried to process the doctor's latest assessment, without any outward sign to his father how deeply the man's words had affected him.

Alan took his usually information seeking son's silence as a bad sign. He steeled himself to ask the question that Don seemed determined not to ask in front of Alan.

"Without the benefit of either one of those treatments am I right in presuming that the odds of the next VT being far more dangerous for Charlie go up substantially." Alan Eppes stated. The tremor in his voice gave away his inner fear.

"Yes," Andrew answered without hesitation.

He quickly explained (under the unrelenting stare of Don Eppes) that taking into account the arrhythmia Charlie had experienced in Dr. Van Acker's office and the fact that the latest VT's had occurred within a close time frame Andrew's concern now was that Charlie would experience a VTA; a dangerous combination of a ventricular tachycardia (VT) and ventricular fibrillation (VF).

"How bad would that combination be for my son?" Alan reluctantly inquired. In a just and fair world, it would be Don and Charlie standing here having this conversation with Andrew Cosmos.

Andrew looked down at the top of his old scuffed Dansko® shoes. He reminded himself that he made a promise to Alan Eppes.

The cardiologist's body language told Don that whatever Andrew Cosmos was about to tell them was going to be tough. 

"How bad?" Don heard his father ask in a shaky voice. 

"For 80% of patients VTA leads to sudden death." Andrew answered straightforwardly.

Alan swayed slightly and paled considerably.

Don grabbed a chair and helped his father into it. He was just as shocked by the news as his father, but anger helped him recover his voice.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He growled at the cardiologist.

The fact that the doctor had just pulled Charlie through another frightening episode was, for Don, the sole reason why the man had not ended up in the hallway; pressed up against a wall.

"He's not doing anything I haven't asked him to do, Don." Alan said quietly but strongly to his angry son.

"Is there any way to predict the next VT?" Alan asked hopefully.

Andrew had learned of research recently started in Seoul, Korea on the subject of VT's and predictability. At this point, though, the study was in its infancy stage and not worth mentioning. 

"No, Alan." The cardiologist answered honestly.

Alan could no longer pretend that GCM, a term he had never heard of before this week, was not incurable, not another vicious rampaging disease, certainly not one capable of taking Charlie from him.

"Granted," Andrew said to the two deeply shocked men. "We've hit a roadblock, but that does not mean we cannot try and go around it."

"What are you proposing?" Don cautiously replied. He had no doubt that it was going to be an extreme stop-gap measure.

"I'm going to ask Charlie for informed consent to place him on Venoarterial Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation (V-A ECMO) for a period of five days." Andrew stated. He looked at Don and then Alan.

Alan saw a wave of apprehension wash across his son's face.

Don, from the dazed look on his father's face, realized that Alan did not know what having Charlie placed on ECMO entailed.

Don, however, was all too familiar.

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Two years ago, a critically wounded colleague was placed on ECMO. The first time Don walked into the room to pay his respects to Agent Davis, he had to fight the urge to quickly turn back around. It was only the fact that Amelia Davis' parent's were flanking her bedside that kept Don moving forward.

The use of ECMO in Agent Davis' case had saved the critically wounded agent's life, but Don recalled that while still on the machine, there was a major incident which resulted in Amelia Davis suffering a stroke. The significant cognitive issues that resulted from the stroke led to her having to withdraw from her high-level position within the Division of Counterterriosm. 

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If Charlie gives consent, then I will contact our ECMO team." Andrew said very carefully.

"Team? What exactly does placing Charlie on ECMO entail?" Alan questioned the doctor. He now stood next to Don.

"ECMO is comparable to the heart-lung bypass machines used during open-heart surgery." Andrew Cosmos explained.

The cardiologist proceeded to explain how the (V-A) ECMO machine would take over and allow Charlie's heart and lungs to rest.

Alan Eppes felt like he was trapped underwater and sinking. 

"A heart-lung bypass machine. That's your idea of going around?" An emotional Don exclaimed. 

He did not want what happened to Amelia Davis to happen to his brother. He knew in his heart that Charlie would never be able to cope with having significant cognitive issues. On the other hand, he sure as hell did not want Charlie dying suddenly from a VTA. 

Don balled up his fist so tightly by his side; that his knuckles turned white, and his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand.

"What happened to the IABP/VAD/Transplant outline you described for Charlie before the IA was even put in place?" Alan suddenly questioned the doctor. He remembered the conversation; the IABP would be a bridge to the VAD (ventricular assist device) which in turn would lead to the transplant.

"That was the original game plan," An unruffled Andrew Cosmos volunteered. "At it stands today; Charlie's numbers are not where I would like them to be, he's battling arrhythmia, struggling with a heart that is no longer able to function on its own and his lungs are overworked. If he consents; this five day period will hopefully give us back the option of the VAD."

Don caught the word “hopefully” but his father had either missed it (seeing how Alan had not even flinched); or to keep his sanity chose to ignore it. 

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Andrew would hold off on telling the men that the VAD would more than likely be the only option left once Charlie was weaned from the ECMO (after the allotted five day period) while the endless wait for a donor heart continued.

He could stretch the period on ECMO (he had read of patient's being supported on the machine for upwards to a month); but longer periods on ECMO increased a patient's risk for a bleed, transfusion problems, infections, small clots or air bubbles forming in the tubing, and stroke.

If Charlie accepted the five day schedule; Andrew would not then turn around later and try and push the issue of further days with Don Eppes (while the man served as his younger brother's legally appointed Decisionmaker).

This time it was Alan's turn to contemplate the tops of his shoes.

"Alan, do you need to take a break?" A concerned Andrew Cosmos inquired. He had adhered to the man's wishes, but could tell that the total honesty policy was beginning to take a toll on the man.

"No." Alan replied curtly. It was the only word he could manage to speak at the moment.

"Don?" The cardiologist turned to ask the youngest member of the circle. He had no doubts that whatever emotions were swirling inside Don Eppes, the man, was going to remain rock steady in order to support his family.

"Keep talking." Don replied abruptly. He knew if the doctor stopped his father would not be able to make it through a second go round and despite his outwardly appearance; Don was teetering on the edge.

Andrew gave a short overview of the ECMO. He would wait until his discussion with Charlie to get into more in depth details. Andrew owed it to his patient to not have Charlie feeling as if he was the least informed person in the room.

When Andrew finished his brief outline of the pros and cons of ECMO; it left Alan and Don Eppes reeling. 

Don closed his eyes (in a futile effort to freeze out the image of Agent Davis on ECMO).

Alan threw an arm around his son's back, and pulled him close. Despite Don's determination to hold it together; Alan knew his kid was struggling.

It would be a full minute before Alan and Don would be able to look in Andrew Cosmos' direction.

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Andrew understood completely how difficult it was going to be for Alan and Don Eppes to see Charlie placed in such a vulnerable state.

Andrew would have to choose his words very carefully when he got around to discussing the numerous risk factors with Charlie. He wanted to avoid Charlie reacting negatively and making the wrong decision.

The sound of Don Eppes' voice interrupted Andrew's thought process.

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"Charlie's not going to go for it." An anxious sounding Don announced.

"Then you and I will help convince him." Alan responded with faked calmness. He tried to ignore the unconvinced look on his eldest son's face.

"I'm letting you know up front (he looked directly at Andrew Cosmos) that Charlie's not going to hear about this ECMO option alone." Don stated firmly.

"Don and I will both be there for the discussion." Alan added. He waited for the doctor's rebuttal.

"I would like nothing more than for Charlie to be surrounded by his family and have that reinforcement. Let's hope he feels the same…" The cardiologist's attention was diverted by a knock on the door.

Don and Alan had been all set to argue with Andrew Cosmos until they too heard the knock on the door. 

Isabella poked her head into the room. She smiled at both Don and Alan.

"Charlie's awake." Isabella informed the three men. "He sent me in here to inform the three of you that and I quote "it was really rude to leave for Starbucks without asking him for his selection." The nurse hoped that she had achieved the right amount of Charlie Eppes sarcasm.

Isabella wisely chose not to volunteer that Charlie had also told her that "having a heart that wants to stop more than it wants to go should qualify him for an Espresso Machiato in order to keep it beating a little longer." He also told her that "it could be considered a holistic approach."

Despite being taken back by the second comment; Isabella laughed.

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She seriously did not think her enjoying his oddly-timed remarks meant all that much to Charlie; until he had aimed his big brown eyes at her and stated, "Thanks Izzy. You're the only one who still genuinely laughs when around me." 

The usually unflappable nurse came close to losing her composure.

Isabella reassured Charlie that she would continue to be that person. She then made an excuse that she needed to see what was holding up Andrew Cosmos just so she could leave the room.

Out in the hallway, she gathered her emotions, and then began a real search for Andrew Cosmos.

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When Alan saw Isabella he smiled briefly. It was more for the nurse's benefit than his own.

Don, could not even fake a smile. Knowing all too well that his brother often made ill-timed statements in order to hide his anxiety. Don had a very strong sense that Charlie had said more to Isabella then the nurse was reporting.

He was not, however, going to push the issue because Don was sure that whatever it was that Charlie had brought up to Isabella would hurt like hell to learn.

The sound of voices brought Don out of his own head. He took note of Andrew and Isabella's conversation as they walked past him on their way to the office's door.

"How is he tolerating the Procainamide?" Andrew asked. "Any issues?"

"There is the start of a rash near the catheter." Isabella offered. "But no complaints of pain or itching."

"Let's treat it with a cortisone cream and keep an eye out for any swelling or coolness." Andrew stated. "Make sure our friend knows he is expected to let us know if there's any other issues."

"I have already drilled it into his head," Isabella only half-joking replied.

"A rash, I'll take any day." Andrew quietly addressed his trusted co-worker. "Let's keep all eyes on him for the next hour or so."

Don watched Isabella briefly pat the doctor's shoulder blade, in what could only be taken as an act of solidarity as they both prepared for whatever could come next.

The level of concern shown by Cosmos and Isabella over what probably amounted to a minor rash on Charlie's arm had Don worrying again about the sheer number of medications currently making their way into his brother's veins via an ever growing canopy of IV bags and lines.

As much as the doctor annoyed Don in so so many ways; he understood and appreciated the fact that Andrew Cosmos (along with his colleague Ana Vaidya) has been performing a daily juggling act in order to keep Charlie stabilized in order to justify keeping his brother's name on the National Transplant Registry.

It also amazed, Don, how both Rowan and Isabella kept track and safely administered the multiple medications that Charlie now depended on even when it seemed like Andrew Cosmos or Ana Vaidya altered them every other hour.

When they were all out in the hallway; Isabella gave Don and Alan a quick smile before heading back toward Charlie's room.

It was not Don's imagination; the nurses' smile looked strained.

Andrew Cosmos followed Don and Alan as they walked toward Charlie's room.

"He can't be serious," Don thought to himself. Judging by the upset look on his father’s face; Don knew the man had the same thought.

Don and Alan stopped moving which lead Andrew Cosmos to nearly walk into two very unhappy looking men.

Alan was the first to address the doctor.

"You're not seriously planning on discussing the ECMO option with my son right now?" an incredulous Alan Eppes stated.

"Alan, I'm sorry, but I thought it was understood that the wait and see option went out the window with the third VT." Andrew replied pointedly.

"You're not dropping this news on Charlie like you and your partner did the GCM diagnosis."

"Or the need for the IABP," Alan added.

It was now a tag team effort to attempt to talk Andrew Cosmos out of his ill-advised plan of action.

"Charlie is going to shut you down if he feels that you are trying to steamroll him.” Don stated. “And I’m telling you right now he sure as hell will not give you an answer at the end of your discussion.” 

“He has to process all the information he’s given and then and only then will Charlie make his decision.” Alan added. 

Andrew Cosmos folded his arms, contemplated the information given to him, and then announced: 

"I will be presenting to Charlie specific information that he is familiar with and so the need for any extended period for him to…"

"Look," Alan quickly interjected. "My son has a hell of a lot of doctorates to his name and Charlie could talk from here to the moon and back about operations, factorials, rational expressions, linear equations and a hundred other mathematical things, that I have no idea about, but one thing I do know is that my son does not possess a medical degree.” 

Andrew waited a beat. 

"Charlie has a Macbook®." He stated. 

Andrew could tell by the way the two men looked at each other that he did not need to add that Charlie had already read every research study on GCM and VT's.

"From what Isabella pried out of Charlie; he ordered it over the phone, arranged to have the package expressed delivered to the reception area, made it worth it for a still unnamed St. Vincent’s employee, to wait for the package's arrival, and bring it to him.” 

"Dammit," Alan exclaimed. He should have known when Charlie stopped asking for his laptop that his resourceful kid had mapped out a Plan B.

"He probably paid this person a set up fee too." Don remarked.

"Dammit," Alan cursed again. With so much going on so quickly, Alan had forgotten to take home the bag that contained Charlie's clothes and personal effects (which no doubt included his son's wallet and bank card).

"Charlie managed to get into some heavily restricted medical research sites." Andrew revealed.

"Of course he did." Don responded. He had tried to sound annoyed, but there was just too much pride in his voice. 

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Isabella suddenly appeared in front of the trio now having an impromptu discussion in the middle of the hallway.

"Charlie sent me out to remind everyone here that any discussion involving possible treatment plans legally has to include his input.” Isabella stated. This time there was no smile.

She had watched her patient grow more and more anxious as the minutes continued to click off the wall clock. 

At one point, Charlie grumbled,"they are aware that I know what they’re up to, right?"

"This discussion should be taking place in Charlie's room." Isabella stated, without another word, she turned and walked back to her patient's room.

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For the first time since Charlie was admitted; neither Don nor Alan jumped at the chance to be at his side.

It's not going to get any easier." Andrew addressed the reluctant looking men.

A stern looking Isabella held open the door to Charlie's room as Don, Alan and then Andrew made their way into the room.

Don, noted right away two things about his brother: Charlie looked exhausted and Charlie looked upset. 

Alan saw it too. 

An exhausted and upset Charlie Eppes was a highly combustible item. 

Poor, Andrew Cosmos happened to be the only member of the trio unaware of that fact.

Don briefly hesitated and almost smirked (his hesitating being on purpose) as Andrew Cosmos walked around him to become the first to reach the foot of Charlie’s bed.


	22. Chapter 22

Charlie immediately forgot how drained he felt as soon as he saw Andrew Cosmos go around his brother.

He was disappointed that Andrew Cosmos had pulled an Alan Eppes Special. He had gone around an obstacle (Charlie) in order to gather some needed back up.

Charlie was also upset that Andrew Cosmos had failed to keep to their earlier agreement. He thought they had made a connection based on respect and shared honesty during their early morning conversation. Charlie decided his gut instinct had to be in default mode due to all the heavy duty medications he was being given to keep all his organs up and running (as if Charlie had not already figured that out).

He had spent the last five days doing everything Andrew Cosmos had asked of him (and also his father and brother's unspoken wishes). The IA Balloon experience was one that he would not have even wished upon Marshall Penfield and Charlie has wished a lot of painful things on Marshall over the years. 

Just the slightest shake of his father's head told Charlie that the man knew about the existence of the MacBook®; no doubt directly from Andrew Cosmos because revealing its existence would work in the doctor's favor.

However, the largest chunk of Charlie's anger was reserved for his health or now lack thereof.

It did not necessitate having a medical degree in order for Charlie to comprehend that the GCM was not being corralled by the immunosuppression therapy and that the cells would eventually gain free reign and decimate the remainder of his already damaged heart.

Charlie felt its progression with every breath he took and every second that his heart tap danced wildly in his chest.

It was becoming quite apparent from the three tense faces at the foot of his bed that a discussion, and a defined strategy, on a treatment option (Charlie could feel that it was the one that made him reassess what constituted a worst case scenario) had taken place and now apparently it was his turn to hear about it.

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Charlie had undertaken a medical journal reading marathon (on a night where after once more claiming exhaustion, he sent his father and brother home early) after pouring over three in-depth research papers (he really thought it would have been a lot harder to work his way in) on heart transplants; Charlie deemed the possibility of his dying during the 4-hour operation the worst case scenario.

On another site; Charlie came across the acronym: POCD. Interest piqued, he discovered that POCD stood for Postoperative Cognitive Dysfunction. A new study stated how POCD after deep sedation (or paralyzed sedation) had been duly noted in major surgery patients and that cognitive impairment lasted anywhere from 1-12 months or (in rare cases), could persist for several years.

As if learning about all the possible ways he could die on the operating table during his transplant surgery and POCD were not enough; he cracked open two other subscription-only research sites and read a detailed report on ECMO and the device's risk factors.

The two papers basically mirrored each other and revealed that an ECMO patient could come down with various infections, renal injury, internal bleeding (with not one, but three subdivisions: major/massive/severe), cerebral stroke or cerebral stroke with hemorrhage (which Charlie horridly imagined would leave him simply existing as a shadow of his former self – if he was unlucky enough to survive the stroke).

The inherent risk of suffering a cerebral stroke while on ECMO quickly led Charlie to amend his previous assessment that dying constituted a worst case scenario.

Shaken, from all the information he had discovered, Charlie shut down the notebook.

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At the very first opportunity; he tried giving the notebook away (as if removing the MacBook® from the room would take with it all the information Charlie had already crammed into his head) to an unfamiliar staff member who came to take inventory of the bathroom. Charlie told the man that it really was not necessary since the room had never been occupied.

Klay, a sociable man, thanked Charlie for his input, then headed toward the small bathroom, clipboard in hand.

As quickly as Klay had come into the room, he was headed out of the room; Charlie quickly called after the retreating staff member and asked if he needed a Macbook® and then tried to sell him on all its multiple functions; including being able to produce time saving inventory spreadsheets.

Klay declined the offer. He told Charlie that it would create too many questions.

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From pieces of information Klay gleaned from whispered hallway conversations he knew that the young man (who occupied the only private room on the unit) was apparently well-known and that he had an older brother who scared the bajezzus out of just about everyone on the unit's floor.

Klay had been pleasantly surprised when Charlie offered up not only a warm greeting but also an introduction. More times than not, a patient simply pretended that Klay had not even entered their room.

Wrong or right; Klay assumed that Charlie must have money flowing in from the right and the left seeing how it was apparently no big deal for the guy to want to give away such an expensive item.

For about a half second he had thought about accepting the young man's unexpected offer; seeing how every one of his kid's seemed to think that it was okay to upload weird crap and dozen's of "YouTube" videos onto Klay's overused desktop computer.

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The last request of his shift actually came from Charlie, who politely (another unusual occurrence) wondered if Klay could take the Macbook® and place it on the top shelve of the furthest closet. Klay, however, figured at some point the guy would get bored and want to access to the device again, so he told Charlie that he would place it between two magazines near his bed so that it was "out of sight" as requested but still within reach.

Klay thanked Charlie again for the offer and wished him well.

Charlie, thanked Klay, (not bothering to tell him that he wasn't allowed to stretch that far) and added, "if you happen to change your mind, I'll be here tomorrow."

To Klay, though it sounded like the kid was not 100% sold on that fact.

Prying was not Klay's thing, so not knowing what else to say to the worn-out looking young man, he gave Charlie a thumbs up sign (a really lame move as his youngest son Trey always pointed out) and headed out the door.

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Momentarily alone (Rowan had yet to appear) Charlie came to the realization that his poking around restricted medical research sites had been a Big Big Mistake (and most likely nightmare inducing).

When Rowan breezed into the room with a smile on her face; Charlie picked up the TV remote. He was in an all out "Leave me alone" funk.

Rowan had tried to engage him by talking about a documentary on PBS about Napoleon that she believed he would find interesting.

Charlie had snapped, "Why, because I'm short?"

Rowan, had not been thrown off her game and volleyed back, "No, because of our discussion the other night on the shared attributes found in many of the outstanding leaders throughout history."

Even though he had apologized; Charlie still felt bad about that exchange.

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"Charlie," Andrew Cosmos addressed his preoccupied patient.

Charlie heard his name being called. He, however, chose to ignore his doctor's attempt to gain his attention.

Earlier interactions had armed Charlie with the knowledge that if he irritated the prickly Andrew Cosmos, the doctor would quickly dismiss him and storm out.

The discussion would effectively be shut down.

"Shouldn't you be home sleeping?" Charlie inquired coolly. Academic life had taught Charlie that reputation driven individuals like Andrew Cosmos hated being told when they were not needed.

Any individual, just coming into the room, and hearing Charlie would think he was rude and belligerent. However, what Don heard was his brother doing all he could to keep from hearing unwanted news.

When Cosmos gave his theory as to what Charlie was doing with the notebook; Don had not wanted the doctor to be right. He tried convincing himself that Charlie ordered the notebook as a means to stave off boredom. Now, though, it was becoming all too clear that Charlie had more than a hunch as to what it was he was about to hear.

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Don had watched his brother take hit after hit over the past five days and every time Charlie bounced back, maybe a little slower each time, but still in the fight. Today, though, there was a difference in Charlie.

Charlie turned and looked at Don for barely a second, but that one fleeting glance told Don all he needed to know.

His brother was running scared.

Charlie was trying like hell to cover it up, but it was there.

Don tried to get Charlie to look at him again, but his brother had all his total attention focused on Andrew Cosmos.

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"I'm covering for Dr. Viadya this morning." Andrew answered in an equally disenchanted tone.

Charlie stared darkly at Andrew Cosmos. The exchange had not produced the outcome Charlie had expected.

"Shouldn't you be thanking me?" The doctor inquired. 

Charlie rested his head further back into his pillow. Attempting to get rid of Andrew Cosmos was proving to be a very tiring exercise.

Alan quickly realized that his son was intentionally trying to get under the doctor's skin. He glanced at Isabella and the nurse gave him a barely perceivable nod.

Isabella understood.

Don did too.

The only one unaware that there was a plan in motion was Andrew Cosmos. If the man stormed out; Alan would have to be the bad guy (at least in Charlie's eyes) and drag the doctor back into the room.

Andrew Cosmos and Charlie Eppes glared at each other.

"Thanks," Charlie finally volunteered. Though his nonplussed reply made it seem as if what Andrew Cosmos had accomplished was about as significant as the doctor removing a splinter from one of Charlie's fingers.

"Don't mention it." Andrew responded. Charlie's flippant attitude started to get on Andrew's last nerve.

He looked at his patient's stone cold expression and it slowly dawned on Andrew what was behind his patient's out-of-character nastiness.

Don kept trying (in vain) to get his Charlie's attention, but his brother was not cooperating.

Charlie knew that his brother was trying to divert his attention. However, if he took even a second to look in Don's direction, then the person Charlie needed to drive away would gain the upper hand.

Andrew intentionally cleared his throat loudly. The sound gained him the attention of everyone in the room.

"Charlie you have every right to be upset that I spoke first to your family members."

"Dammit," Charlie thought, "He purposely diverted from his standard behavioral pattern. Cosmos should have felt insulted and huffed out of the room."

Charlie would try another tactic: attack the man's integrity.

"It was my understanding that we had come to an agreement whereas you were to have discussions with me first and then update my family; not vice versa." Charlie pointedly stated. "You know, my grandfather once told me that, "Intelligence matters, but Integrity matters more."

At the time, Charlie had thought it was a really odd thing to tell a six-year-old. However, with maturity came understanding.

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Almost as soon as the words had left his son's mouth; Alan had a series of flashbacks.

He recalled long dormant (some might say repressed) memories of what turned out to be his parent's last extended stay at his and Margaret's Craftsman home.

Their summer visit just so happened to coincide with a painful (mostly for Charlie) shift in Don and Charlie's relationship. At eleven years and three months; Don (as he preferred to be called) no longer wanted his six year old kid brother to be his shadow. He had his own select group of friends (Charlie called them: jerk jocks).

Alan remembered it as hell week.

Margaret forced out of her own kitchen by Alan's mother whenever a meal needed to be prepared. It certainly did not help that at each meal Don and Charlie ate like they had never seen nor tasted food before.  


Alan and Margaret hearing from his father how Charlie needed to stop spending time "with odd ducks" (a visiting tutor with excellent hearing) and more time with neighborhood kids.  


Donnie's week long resentment at having to bunk in with his "baby brother."

His father's constant grumbling that "someone needs to start sitting on that boy" whenever Donnie voiced an opinion opposite of the one held by either his grandmother or grandfather.  


The smirk on his eldest son's face when he once again successfully managed to annoy his grandfather.

Charlie’s smile whenever his grandmother referred to him as her "smart cookie."  


An overly exuberant Charlie providing the answers to questions pertaining to History, Science, and Mathematics for his less-than-thrilled grandfather who just wanted to watch Jeopardy in peace.  


His father feeling the need to impart words of wisdom on Charlie: "Intelligence matters; but Integrity matters more."  


Charlie's look of total confusion.  


Charlie labeling his brother a "non-variable" (for laughing at his confusion) and a gleeful Don countering with, "you call that an insult?"  


Margaret having to stand between the verbally sparring Don and Charlie (at the airport) as she happily waved goodbye to her in-laws as the pair walked quickly toward the boarding line.  


Alan's mother animatedly waving goodbye before she disappeared from view.  


Margaret informing Alan (as they piled into the car for the long drive home) that his father had let it be known that next year, "They would be staying in a hotel."  


Alan remembered playfully warning his wife, "Please don’t joke about something like that,” and Margaret promising that it was true.  
  
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Alan's heart constricted painfully; his mother, his father, and his wife: three loved ones now gone. It was inconceivable to Alan that number could rise to four.

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Andrew rested his hands on his hips. He had to get back in his patient's good graces.

"Charlie, I'm sorry. You're absolutely right." Andrew finally admitted.

Alan was forced out of the past by the sound of Andrew Cosmos' voice.

The cardiologist tried to ignore the startled look on Isabella's face.

"I was wrong." Andrew continued. Apologizing was hard. He could not remember the last time he had to issue one. It might have possibly occurred way back during his residency days.

Charlie felt like screaming. He did not want a freaking apology. He wanted his doctor to leave.

Isabella saw a growing apprehension in the young man's eyes. She tried to get Andrew Cosmos' attention. He, however, was too intent on waiting for his apology to be accepted.

She glanced over at Don Eppes. Isabella could tell from the concerned expression on his face that Charlie's brother had noticed it too.

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Andrew Cosmos moved away from the foot of the bed. Charlie's sense of relief, however, was short lived as he watched the cardiologist walk to the side of his bed.

"Charlie we need to talk." Andrew stated firmly.

"No, we don't" Charlie quickly replied.

The pleading look that had accompanied his patient's answer had Andrew wishing that he could shelve the discussion. Except, that was simply not possible.

Don, concerned for his brother, walked to the other side of the bed.

Alan moved past Andrew Cosmos so that he now stood opposite Don.

Andrew recalled how the two men took up the very same positions after their initial family discussion on Monday.

Isabella stood apart from the group; waiting in case she was needed.

"I'm afraid that we do Charlie." Andrew answered; in a comforting tone.

Charlie glanced at his father and then his brother; hoping against hope to hear one of them tell Andrew Cosmos to hit the road.

It never happened.

Charlie zeroed in on Andrew Cosmos: knowing that if he looked at his father and brother again, they could all end up in tears.

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For several minutes all the Eppes men were silent as Andrew presented more detailed information on the ECMO to Charlie than what he had divulged earlier to Alan and Don. He also added additional details in regards to ventilation, the use of a breathing tube, and the need for supplemental nutrition once Charlie was placed on ECMO.

Andrew saw his patient visibly pale after he discussed how a series of plastic tubes would be placed in the large veins and arteries in Charlie's leg and neck.

The cardiologist suggested that perhaps it would be best if Charlie took a small break; Andrew was told to "go on."

When it came time for Andrew to explain how there would be a steady amount of blood pumped through the ECMO machine every minute; Alan Eppes placed a hand on his son's forearm; while Don Eppes placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Just as Andrew had explained to Alan and Don; the doctor reiterated to Charlie how the flow rate could be decreased if Charlie's condition began to improve.  
Alan reached out and gently covered his nervous son's rhythmically tapping fingers.

Don felt the small tremor that went through Charlie and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. He believed that the all-encompassing discussion was becoming too much for his brother and suggested that perhaps they should all take a break, which earned him a none-too-happy look from his sibling.

Andrew Cosmos waited until he was told by Charlie that he was ready before going on to describe the membrane lung and to explain how the gas exchange occurs; (oxygen added and carbon dioxide removed).

Charlie sucked in a deep breath. He swallowed twice as a signal to his rolling stomach contents that he was not going to surrender. He waved Isabella off (who already had the kidney tray in her hand).

"Charlie, we can..." Andrew started.

"Continue," Charlie demanded.

Alan and Don shared a worried look.

Andrew cautiously proceeded and described how Charlie's blood would be warmed by a heat exchanger before it was returned to his body.

It was at this point that Charlie asked for some water (which Isabella supplied) and a short break.

When the discussion started up again, Charlie managed to ask several pertinent questions (while still feeling nauseous) and requested that Andrew Cosmos clarify two points of information regarding the heat exchanger.

When his patient appeared satisfied with the answers Andrew provided; the doctor went on to describe the varied duties of the ECMO team. Andrew stressed the fact that Charlie would never be alone; that he would always be in the company of an ECMO specialist who would keep him under constant observation.

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An anxious looking Charlie cleared his throat, which attracted the attention of both his father and brother.

He saved Andrew Cosmos from having to go over all the inherit risk factors because Charlie recited the ones that he had uncovered during his information gathering marathon.

"Are there any other risk factors that I am not aware of?" Charlie actually heard himself inquire.

Alan Eppes threw Andrew Cosmos a look that he hoped would keep the doctor from adding to his son's obviously growing distress.

Andrew Cosmos, however, had to proceed; hoping that Charlie's father would understand that he could not gloss over pertinent information; especially when it was requested by a patient.

"There have been studies that have linked EMCO with arterial dissection, cardiac thrombosis, cardiac and cerebral hypoxia, metabolic and systematic complications." He stated truthfully.

"But most of those risks are associated with patients on ECMO for almost thirty days." Don quickly stated. For a second he actually felt useful. He had done his own research, though he had been stopped by roadblocks that Charlie had managed to successfully maneuver around.

"True, the longer a patient remains on ECMO the higher the risk factors." Andrew agreed.

"So, short term I only have to worry about infections, clots, transfusion and bleeding issues and the possibility of having a massive stroke." Charlie stated. There was sarcasm woven into every word that he spoke.

Isabella and Andrew exchanged glances.

Andrew was all about the positive when he explained how he truly believed that the benefits to be gained for Charlie's heart and lungs during the five day span on ECMO greatly outweighed the potential risks.

Charlie stayed silent.

This time it was Alan, Don, Isabella and Andrew, who shared the same worried expression.

Alan, filled in the silence, with questions he thought would be important to his son.

Don, had expected his brother to inquire about the weaning off process. He thought it would surely be Charlie’s next question because Don sure and hell wanted to know what the process entailed.

Except Charlie was not issuing any more questions. He had folded his hands, and seemed intent on studying the, bitten to the quick, fingernail on his right thumb.

Concerned with his patient's sudden silence; Andrew Cosmos encouraged Charlie to take another minute or two before they continued with a discussion on the weaning off process.

Don doubted that his brother had even heard the doctor's directive.

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Charlie had heard the doctor’s suggestion.

He had managed to stay present and listen to all the horrible details that Andrew Cosmos' put forth and it had taken everything in him to do so and now there was even more information to digest. 

Charlie put his hands to his side (to Don it looked like an act of surrender) and told Andrew Cosmos to continue.

He listened to the doctor explain the weaning off process. It was just the opposite of the hookup process; and to Charlie sounded just as equally frightening.

It all sounded frightening.

Charle was not one for quick decisions. Sometimes it took him days to…” 

Don could not take Charlie's silence any longer. He lightly touched his brother's upper arm. 

A startled Charlie jumped. 

"Buddy," Don quickly apologized. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to…"

"I'm trying…" Charlie tried for a full sentence, it was proving to be a longer process than normal. There were just too many thoughts flooding his brain. "To process everything."

At the sound of Charlie's voice; both Alan and Andrew stopped their conversation.

"Charlie, is there anything you, would you like me to repeat or is there any information that you need me to clarify." Andrew inquired. He was prepared to restart the whole discussion over again if it would help put Charlie at ease. 

Charlie looked neither to his right (where Alan and Andrew stood) nor to his left (where Don and Isabella were positioned), but rather straight ahead. He addressed a mounted "How to keep your hands clean" instructional poster.

"I'm not giving consent," Charlie stated in a clear controlled sounding voice.

He would stare at the poster for the rest of his days; if it meant he would not have to see how deeply he had just hurt his father and brother. 

Alan and Don quickly realized that Charlie had no intention of looking at them and having been on Avoidance Road with him so many times before; both moved in unison to the foot of the bed; where they stood shoulder to shoulder.

Charlie lost his point of solace. 

"I'm sorry," He said quietly to his father and brother.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: This is a very long chapter. I debated about splitting it up. Quilt over not posting it around the 4th kept it as one chapter. In my defense: my laptop died and no I did not back up this chapter.

Don was desperately trying to make sense of his brother's decision.

There were several questions racing through his head, but the key question Don needed his brother to answer: Why the hell did Charlie take a pass on the ECMO treatment?

He genuinely hoped that his brother had opted out because of anxiety; if that proved to be the case, then Don would know what needed to be done to rectify this unbelievable scenario. After a long pattern of hit or misses; he now had a better understanding of his brother's apprehensive nature.

The real problem would be if Charlie made his decision based on pride because that would be a tougher mindset to change. Having over the years, seen for himself the amount of pride Charlie felt whenever he was referred to as a world renown mathematician (he shared that honor with only four other mathematicians).

On sleepless nights; one of the things Don dwelled on (the list was long and ever changing) was the undeniable fact that by pulling Charlie into more and more time-consuming FBI cases; he was effectively keeping his highly sought-after sibling from producing another groundbreaking piece of work like the "Eppes Convergence."

Don, knew without a doubt, that in that select group of four sheltered scholars; there was not one who would ever be able to produce the same astonishing results that Charlie managed to create while under intense pressure and held to insane deadlines.

In Don's eye's his younger brother would always be the best of the best not simply because Charlie had the capabilities to produce awe-inspiring work, but because his brother carried within him an overabundance of compassion and generosity.

And the harsh reality was that over the years Don had generously taken advantage of both of those attributes.

It was almost painful for Don to digest that Charlie still held to the belief that his megawatt brain was what made him such an amazing individual. Don wanted to shake his sibling and proclaim, "No dumbass, it's you!"

Charlie was so much more than what was noted in all those textbooks and documentaries.

Somebody needed to set Charlie straight and quick.

Don looked at his father: the man was still shell shocked.

He looked at Andrew Cosmos. The doctor looked thunderstruck. Obviously, the man was not used to having his judgment questioned and then rejected.

Isabella looked genuinely upset. Don had watched the nurse open her mouth to speak, and then change her mind; as if she sadly realized that she really had no say in the matter.

"Um," Don began. He steadied his voice, "I'd like to speak with Charlie alone for a couple of minutes."

The serious sounding announcement brought Alan out of his stupor.

"Actually, I would like to speak with your brother first." Alan announced.

Isabella watched her patient sink back into his pillows in an ineffective attempt to disappear.

"Gentlemen, what I think would be in Charlie's best interest right now is for…" Andrew Cosmos started to explain. He had ignored both Isabella's pointed expression and her nod toward the bed.

"Don't do that." An irritated Alan interjected. "Stop making statements presuming that you know what's best for my son."

Don had to stop himself from patting his father on the back. He watched as an annoyed look spread across Andrew Cosmos' face and witnessing it warmed Don's heart.

Charlie had not factored into his decision-making process the possibility that turning down ECMO would create an atmosphere of animosity and infighting.

"Hey,"

He heard a gentle whisper and warily opened his eyes.

"They will work it out." Isabella stated firmly. She patted his hand reassuringly.

If they had been alone; Charlie would have asked Isabella if she would go rogue and disregard hospital policy and give him a hug.

Because Charlie desperately needed one.

Except they were not alone: so, Charlie kept his mouth shut.

"Excuse me," Isabella crisply announced. She addressed all three now silent sentries at the foot of the bed. "I think we should all give Charlie some space, some time to himself, and let him decide if and when he wants to talk to anyone."

The nurse continued to stand by Charlie's side just in case a stampede of over concern took place.

In an unprecedented move; Isabella heard Andrew Cosmos agree with her assessment. She had felt after first meeting Charlie Eppes that the young man was going to be a patient Andrew Cosmos would never forget and that the prickly doctor would by association become more well-rounded individual.

The three men did not appear to be in any real hurry to put Isabella's request into action.

Alan Eppes put a hand on a part of the railing as if in preparation of being pulled unwillingly away.

"Please," Charlie said to the group. Every emotion he was feeling was highlighted in that single word.

Don made eye contact with his brother. He understood the message in those familiar brown eyes.

"Charlie." Alan exclaimed.

Charlie turned his gaze on his still anchored father.

"I'm honestly not trying to be pushy." The older man announced as a matter-of-fact.

Charlie smiled faintly.

And for the brief time that the small smile remained on his brother's face; Don had one as well.

After he observed Charlie place a hand on his stomach; Don snaked an arm around the small of his father's back (and prepared to pry the man's hand off the bed rail) and announced: "Hey, we're going to give you those couple minutes buddy. Dad and I will be in the waiting area."

Seeing the grateful look on his youngest son's face had Alan reluctantly released his grip on the bed rail.

After being propelled to the door by Don; Alan took hold of the door's handle. He held the door open for his eldest son and then called to the still unmoving Andrew Cosmos.

"Doctor," Alan said. He pulled the door open wider just in case Andrew Cosmos had not gotten the message.

Seeing that he was the only one in the hallway; Don tried to reenter the room, only to find himself being shooed back by his father.

Don reluctantly backed up as the less-than-pleased looking Andrew Cosmos finally emerged from the room.

As the door closed; Alan, Don, and Andrew heard a shaky sounding Charlie warn Isabella that he was about to be sick.

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Once in the hallway; Andrew had to excuse himself to deal with an agitated patient. He informed Alan and Don that the odds were not in his favor for him to be the one that Charlie choose to speak with.

Andrew was glad his honest assessment served to put a brief smile on both Alan and Don's face.

The cardiologist made his way to a room, several doors down from Charlie's.

"He's like a bad rash." Don proclaimed in a semi-growl.

"Really!" Alan deadpanned. "I'm sure your assessment would come as a complete shock to poor Andrew."

Don smirked. He relished any moment of lightness shared with his father; no matter how brief. He hooked the older man's elbow and lead Alan over to the waiting area.

The small alcove was not empty, but even so; Don and Alan managed to sit side by side in chairs that still gave them a bird's eye view of Charlie's room.

The two mirrored each other: leaning forward; elbows on knees, with folded hands.

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It seemed like forever before either man spoke.

"I hate having a reason to sit in these damn chairs." An emotional Alan said to his folded hands.

Don worried that his father's anger at Charlie's decision was slowly bubbling to the surface. He hoped against hope that the man would be able to keep a lid on his true feelings if Charlie chose to speak with Alan.

"I know, Dad." Don replied comfortingly. He took a good long look at his father. There were lines etched in the man's face that were not there in the beginning of the week.

"He's going to ask to talk to you, Donnie." Alan quietly announced without a hint of animosity. He gave up all sense of fairness and pleaded, "Please. Please. Get him to change his mind."

The older man watched his son's head dip even lower; as if Alan had just tied a weight around Don's neck.

"Charlie trusts you. So much so that he designated you the person responsible for making medical decisions in his name." Alan patted his surprised looking son's knee.

He had hurriedly viewed the dreaded document after looking over Ana Vaidya's shoulder as the distracted doctor flipped through Charlie's medical file (a bulging paper filled file that Rowan and Isabella grumbled at every time they charted updates).

The discovery coincided on an afternoon that Charlie seemed intent on sleeping through: watching his continual sleep doubled Alan's fears.

Alan understood why Charlie had not bestowed on him that heavy responsibility. He had wanted to have a discussion with Don about bearing that enormous weight.

However, Alan could never bring himself to start the conversation.

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Don rubbed the back of his neck.

He wished it would be as easy to change Charlie's mind as his father envisioned. However, Don knew that he was going to have to go toe to toe with his brother. Experience had taught him that underneath all those angelic looking curls was one extremely stubborn individual.

"Dad, it's not going to be a case of me just walking in there and saying to Charlie, "Hey, look, this is what I expect you to do and he'll fall in line no questions asked." Don said. He was not going to give his father a false sense of hope.

Alan sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "Maybe it could be." He answered.

"Out of the three of us; the person Charlie would still be willing to listen to would be you, Don." Andrew Cosmos announced as he walked toward the two men.

Don helped his father to his feet as the doctor approached. He tried to ignore the older man's slight wobble before Alan found his balance.

Alan could not wait any longer. He needed an answer to a question that has been boring a hole in his heart ever since leaving Charlie's room.

"The ECMO… Is it the last treatment option you have to offer Charlie in lieu of a donor heart?" Alan somehow managed to ask out loud.

"It is Alan," Andrew Cosmos answered honestly.

"Is he aware of that fact?" Don inquired after managing to find his voice.

"Your brother is acutely aware of each step in his treatment plan." Andrew revealed.

"Why the hell is Charlie doing this? Don angrily pondered.

A newly panicked Alan Eppes turned and faced his eldest son and announced:

"I don't care how you do it, Don. Hurt his feelings if you have to," A deadly serious Alan stated. "Get your brother to see what a horrible mistake he's made and make him change his mind."

It took Don several seconds to wrap his head around what his father had given him permission to do. The very thought of having to go in and "twist" Charlie's arm had Don feeling nauseous.

For the first time since Charlie was admitted; Don looked to Andrew Cosmos for assistance.

"Alan, I don't think pressuring Charlie is a step you should even be contemplating."

"Then what should I be contemplating?" Alan barked. "Because I am telling you that waiting Charlie out will be a waste of time."

"If time were not an issue, I would be telling both of you "let's give him the day to think it over." Andrew stated.

There was a moment of silence between the three men. Each escaped into their own thoughts.

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"We missed something!" Alan exclaimed. He looked at Don and then Andrew Cosmos. "Charlie appeared to be accepting the idea and then without warning, he shut down."

"Tell us again the benefits he'll gain from ECMO. Maybe if Charlie hears it from either Dad or I it will make some sort of a difference." It was not lost on Don that he was now the one grasping for straws.

Andrew doubted that would be the case.

"That five-day period where his heart and lungs are resting I expect it to give Charlie at least a 10-day window in which to wait for a donor heart.

The doctor prayed that neither Alan or Don Eppes inquired about what the next step would be if a donor heart did not become available during the 10-day period. The two men had been put through the wringer this week. Andrew wanted to put off any discussion on Palliative Care for Charlie until it became an absolute necessity.

"Charlie's non-consent ended the meeting. We never got around to discussing the immediate consequences of him not receiving ECMO." Alan had to force the last sentence out.

Andrew held back a sigh. He should have seen that one coming.

"Without ECMO, we would be looking at a 48-hour time span during which Charlie would still be considered a viable transplant candidate if we continue to keep him stabilized." Andrew stated straightforwardly. It was not going to help either Alan or Don Eppes if Andrew sugarcoated the consequences of Charlie's refusal.

"48 hours!" Alan almost doubled over. The doctor's words were ringing in his ears.

Don threw an arm around his father's back.

Andrew gave Alan Eppes a chance to regain his composure before continuing.

The cardiologist proceeded to speak in a practiced tone that Don knew all too well.

"The Immunosuppression and Pacing Therapy are not providing Charlie with the benefits that I had hoped they would. Scans show additional muscle damage. His latest stats are concerning. Charlie has been made aware of every issue and he understands that if we cannot turn this around (which is was why Andrew had pushed so hard for ECMO); he will find himself at a point where he will no longer be considered a viable transplant candidate. The criteria and standards that UNOS (United Network for Organ Sharing) holds us…"

"The hell with UNOS and their criteria and standards." An emotionally spent Alan stated.

"Alan, I will do everything in my power to fight for Charlie's name to remain on the registry, but you have to understand that this type of criteria: it is all but set in stone. It had to be implemented due to the continual shortages of organ donors. Regulations had to be adopted to create a degree of fair-mindedness regarding the needs of the growing number of patients continually added to the waiting lists."

"Fair?" Don repeated to himself. He could not believe the doctor had used the word in connection to what was happening to his brother.

"You want to talk degrees of fairness." Alan responded curtly. "Charlie's achievements should be what keeps his name on the top of that damn list. Not his damn stats!"

Andrew Cosmos made a motion for Alan to lower his voice. The heated conversation was attracting the attention of the room's other occupants.

"Dad, you know as well as I do that Charlie has never traded on his name." Don patiently addressed his father.

He did not get scared often, but in a short amount of time today his father had cursed at Andrew Cosmos and pulled out the "Esteemed Dr. Charles Edward Eppes" card. The strain on his father was becoming apparent with every fresh outburst."

"We are not talking about scoring a good seat in a restaurant here Don. He (Alan pointed at Andrew Cosmos) does not appear to realize how important Charlie and his work happen to be." Alan said in a lower tone that was still backed by thunder.

Andrew Cosmos took a beat; keeping himself from angrily informing Alan Eppes that he should really start listening to his eldest son.

Newly composed Andrew Cosmos stated: "I understand that this decision of Charlie's has left us all reeling. I still have to speak to him about the consequences, he is going to face having declined the ECMO. Perhaps after hearing about the 48…"

"I'll do it." Don interrupted the man. "I'll tell Charlie about the deadline."

Alan knew how much the discussion was going to cost Don. Just like he understood why his son would not allow Andrew Cosmos to have the discussion with Charlie.

Don was going to protect Charlie as much as he could; for as long as he could.

Alan turned to his firstborn son.

"Don I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I would never be okay with you hurting your brother to get any kind of end result." Alan then addressed Andrew Cosmos "And I am sorry for all but ordering you to take into consideration my son's importance. Charlie would have a fit if he ever heard I had suggested such a thing."

A deeply embarrassed Alan Eppes stared down at the floor.

"Dad," Don said calmly. "It's already forgotten." He looked directly at Andrew Cosmos. "And Charlie will be none-the-wiser."

"Alan, stress makes us," Andrew started to explain. He heard Don Eppes clear his throat. "Absolutely. Already forgotten."

The three men all but jumped when they heard Isabella's voice.

"Don," the nurse announced. "Charlie would really appreciate it if you would and these are his exact words "come in and keep him company before the respiratory guy shows up."

Don understood the message behind his brother's words. He could come in, but there would be no discussion regarding ECMO.

He felt his father's eyes trained on him.

"Thank you, Isabella," Don replied. "I'll be right there." The nurse gave him an unreadable look before heading back toward Charlie's room.

"Don," Alan said as he firmly took hold of his eldest son's forearm. "You have to get him to give consent."

Andrew Cosmos' common sense told him to remove himself from this father/son moment. He had already made his viewpoint known. He spun on his heels and headed for a much-needed cup of coffee.

"Dad, I know how important this is." Don replied carefully as he wormed his way out of his father's surprisingly strong hold.

Alan understood that he had placed a tremendous amount of pressure squarely on his eldest son's shoulders, he had done so knowing how much Charlie looked up to Don and valued his older brother's opinions.

Alan saw his son head into the room; aware that if Don came back with a still negative answer; then… Alan found himself unable to complete the thought.

He slowly lowered himself back into a chair and stared at the door to Charlie's room.

Alan heard his therapist's message in his head: "You cannot make it "all right" for Charlie."

"Maybe I can't," Alan said softly to himself. "But I'm sure as hell still going to try.

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"Charlie, I'm going to give you and your brother a little personal time. If you need me, just hit the call button." Isabella addressed her apprehensive looking patient.

Charlie nodded yes, silently.

Before leaving, Isabella entered some new data (and with every changing number; Isabella understood the rush to obtain consent). She stood with her back to her patient, but nearly shoulder to shoulder with an anxious looking Don Eppes.

While in the process of recording her observations; Isabella whispered to the man next to her: "Go easy and good luck."

"What?" Charlie questioned. He had taken note of his brother's not-so-stealth side glance toward Isabella.

"Isabella was just warning me not to get you all riled up." Don explained as he covered for the relieved looking nurse.

Isabella smiled innocently at Charlie, who looked anything but convinced. She then beat a very hasty retreat.

Don and Charlie found themselves without a distraction. The room soon filled with an awkward silence.

"Did Dad prep you?" Charlie inquired breaking the silence. He knew his older brother well enough to know that Don would not lie to him. At least, he hoped that was still the case.

"Of course." Don said without missing a beat. "Cosmos too."

Charlie visibly relaxed. There were still some things that he could count on not changing.

"Hey, if your line of questioning is complete. Can I sit down?" Don remarked.

"Sure," Charlie answered. He motioned for his brother to occupy the empty chair near his bed.

As Don settled into the chair; he had no choice but to listen to the sound of his brother's congestive cough. It was a sound not even a tissue could muffle.

Charlie held the balled up the tissues in his hand. A small wastebasket was located right next to his brother's foot.

"Are you planning on hanging on to that for prosperity?" Don stated, indicating the wadded-up tissues. Trying to be useful; Don picked up the empty wastebasket. He angled it and waited for his brother to pitch the used tissues.

"Hey, could you help me find the TV remote?" Charlie suddenly announced.

"The remote?" A briefly confused Don responded. He started looking around the contours of the bed cover for the rogue device after replacing the small plastic wastebasket back in its original spot: near his feet.

While his brother's attention was diverted; Charlie rolled on his side and dropped the wadded-up tissues into the waste basket. He was relieved to see that he had hit his intended target.

He quickly rolled back, not quite certain if his head had ended up in the same precise spot on his pillow.

"Buddy, it's right there next to your hand." Don helpfully pointed out the remote's location.

"Oh yeah, so it is," Charlie replied. His effort to sound surprised failed miserably. He could tell by the coolness of his pillow, on the back of his neck, that he had miscalculated. "He's not going to notice," He silently thought.

Charlie watched as his older brother pulled out a stick of gum, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

Experience had taught Charlie that while his brother appeared totally unconcerned; he was actually in the midst of processing, studying and evaluating. And from the merest squint of Don's eyes' Charlie knew that his brother had come to the realization that he had missed something.

Don expertly rolled up the gum wrapper. "Brunch," he announced with a slight grin. As he proceeded to throw the piece of paper into the wastebasket, he watched his brother wince, and Charlie stop his hand from coming to rest on his chest. The balled-up paper bounced off the rim of the wastebasket, and landed on the floor.

"You okay?" He asked worriedly. "Do you need to call…"

"No, it's nothing out of the ordinary." Charlie replied in a comforting tone. "I'm okay." He made the okay sign with his fingers for added reassurance.

Don took one more look at his brother, before bending over to retrieve the wayward wrapper.

Which inadvertently gave him a bird's eye view of the contents of the wastebasket. It took him a moment to understand what it was that he was looking at; stained and splotched tissues. The same tissues that had been rolled up in Charlie's hand.

Don quickly bolted upright. The gum wrapper all but forgotten.

Charlie fully comprehended what had put the stricken expression on his sibling's face.

"It's okay," He said soothingly. "I'm scheduled for a respiratory treatment." Then, seeing how upset Don remained Charlie helpfully added, "Which takes away a good portion of the congestion."

Don sprang from the chair and started to pace.

Charlie took a healthy swig from his CalSci water bottle and successfully battled back an urge to cough. He wondered what was keeping the therapist (whose name was unexpectantly missing from his memory). Charlie did not relish the thought of having to continually swallow mouthfuls of water to keep from coughing as his brother paced around his bed.

Don suddenly stopped and announced: "Charlie, from here on out you and I are operating on total honesty. No more "I'm doing great" games. You can keep playing them with Dad, but not with me."

Charlie did not even attempt to try and convince his brother that he had always been honest and upfront. He had always known that Don was not really buying his act.

"Okay," A wheezing Charlie agreed. His agreement, though, did not seem to totally appease his brother. Don still looked irritated.

Confrontational interaction was not what Charlie had anticipated when he invited Don back into his room.

"Total honesty." Charlie said to his brother.

Don nodded.

"Seeing how I'm not going to discuss the ECMO option with you, do you think you can put your anger aside and just hang here with me?"

"Truth." Don replied. He moved closer to the bed.

A worried Charlie nodded.

"I cannot even begin to put into words how angry I am at your refusal, but that's not the anger I am dealing with right now." Don revealed.

"It was not my intention to hurt you or Dad with my decision, Don." Charlie offered by way of an apology. He waited for an acknowledgment. Don just continued to stare at him with dark, unhappy eyes.

Charlie tried to wrack his brain. He had discovered that some of his thoughts over the last 24-hours were noticeably hazy or slow in coming; Charlie theorized that his ever-growing cocktail of medications were to blame. "What else had he done?" He was actually pleased with himself when he came up with the answer, "I'm sorry I just didn't want you seeing the tissues."

"This is not about the damn tissues Charlie," Don replied tersely.

"Then I give up." Charlie said helplessly.

"Exactly," Don shot back.

"What?" Charlie was completely lost. He had no idea where it was that his brother was coming from.

"You're giving up." Don, who had worried about his father's pent up anger, failed to keep a check on his own.

"That's not true!" Charlie strongly protested (or as much as he could protest while attempting to also breath). "My decision to not go on ECMO is not an indicator that I've given up."

"Are you sure about that?" Don roughly suggested. He saw such a pained expression filter across his brother's face that for a second, Don almost apologized until he recalled his father's face and heard Cosmos' dire 48-hour warning in his ears.

"I am still fighting." Charlie said in a surprisingly firm tone of voice. "You have no idea how hard these last few days have been for me."

Charlie was seriously pissed off. This was the same man who swore to him that he would have his back and the depth of his brother's sincerity had Charlie scrambling to place Don's name on his POLST and Advance Directive.

He was finished speaking with his overly-opinionated sibling. Charlie knew Don would never leave even if asked which had his hand inching toward the call button.

"Charlie, hear me out." Don said quickly. He saw too late, he was pushing too hard. He latched onto his brother's wrist just as Charlie claimed the call button. Don worked like hell to keep a look of alarm from registering on his face; Charlie's familiar long, reed-like fingers were definitely swollen.

"No, I don't think so." An emotional Charlie replied. "I think you've said enough." He pulled his hand away and continued to hold on to the paging device.

"When you made your decision; you were missing a very important piece of information." Don hurriedly explained. He was not going to move from his brother's side; even if Charlie called for backup. 

Don waited for a response. He heard the second hand on the wall clock ticking away each and every second that Charlie remained silent.

"I took every piece of information given to me by my medical team into consideration before making my decision." Charlie pointed out. He placed the paging device next to his hip. "The only thing I failed to factor in was what a complete ass you are when you don't get what you want."

The well-aimed remark stung like hell, but Don had no intention of letting his brother in on that fact.

"Charlie, if you decline the ECMO; you're looking at a 48-hour window in which to obtain a donor heart. A timeline that is based on your team being able to keep you stable."

"Really, Don!" Charlie responded in disbelief. "Scare tactics."

It took everything Charlie had left (which was not much after taking his stand) not to allow his perceptive sibling to see that he had scored a direct hit.

"I'm not trying to scare you Charlie." Don replied honestly. "You know me better than that."

"Who gave you that piece of information." Charlie demanded.

He knew that his condition was entering a critical phase. He likewise understood that if the slide continued his standing as a viable candidate for a donor heart would become questionable. Charlie never questioned Ana Vaidya on a timeline. At that moment; he did not want to deal with facts; he instead allowed himself to believe that the doctor was referencing weeks not days.

"Dr. Vaidya called Cosmos for an update. I spoke to her directly." Don, found himself for the first time since Charlie's admittance, outright lying to his brother. He thought to himself, "So much for the total honesty policy." Don rationalized that if he had given up Andrew Cosmos; his brother would have flipped out over the doctor giving out information again.

"What am I supposed to do with this information?" A dazed Charlie contemplated out loud.

"Give Cosmos your consent." Don answered. Hoping, as the words left his mouth, that his brother would at the very least consider his request.

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"I'm sorry... No… I thought I could do it, but I can't." A tearing up Charlie stated. "Don, you have no idea what you are asking me to do." He rubbed his eyes.

"Then tell me, Charlie." A battle-weary Don replied.

After five full minutes of unrelenting silence; Charlie slowly began to share his unspoken fears.

"The idea of being trapped in my own head for five days; absolutely terrifies me." He revealed. "It's hard enough keeping up with my thoughts when I am in a conscious state."

"Charlie," Don said patiently. "Cosmos explained that he would most likely place you on a mixture of sedatives and/or opioids. We're talking a deep sedation." He perched on the arm of the chair so that they were both at eye level. "Any thoughts you think you might have will definitely be silenced until they bring you out from…"

"All his stated research is based on ICU patients with normal brain function. I think we can both agree that mine has never been considered normal." Charlie stated without a hint of boasting.

"I think if you listen to Cosmos again; you'll find that you are not going to have any issues, even with a brain that sucks up as much knowledge as yours does." Don offered up a slight smile only to discover that his preoccupied sibling had no idea he had even offered up an opinion.

"Without a way to departmentalize or filter my thoughts;" Charlie went on. "They'll overtake me. It's a recipe for disaster. Throw on top of that the hallucination and delusion risks associated with deep sedation and no, I… can't."

Don placed a hand on his brother's forearm; in hopes of regaining his attention.

"Charlie. Buddy." Don was relieved to see that his brother's eyes once more showed an awareness of his presence. He continued. "I think that if you talk to Cosmos about everything you have just told me he will have the answers you need to hear, and you'll feel less…"

"Scared. Fearful. Terrified." Charlie honestly admitted. "I heard everything the first go round; Cosmos spoke on the mechanics of the device and its inherent risks. He addressed the cognitive complications I could experience after being heavily sedated. He never once mentioned the neurological issues I might experience while trapped in a deep sedated state; which I can only assume means that he is very much aware of the risks for hallucinations and delusions."

Charlie had a whipped up a solid hypothesis. It felt good to be productive again. He kept going.

"Cosmos was banking on my giving consent based solely on the limited information he presented. He purposely omitted information on possible hallucinations and delusions because he feared that would be my line in the sand."

"Charlie… I honestly don't think…" Don stumbled over his words. "That was the case." He wasn't sure where the conversation was going to next. He had not seen his brother this worked up in weeks. If the subject matter was not so disconcerting; Don would have been pleased.

"I think Dr. Vaidya also kept this information from me." Charlie offered. "Ha," he thought "So much for my thoughts getting hazy.

He started tapping his fingers; almost feeling energized.

Don reached over and covered his brother's fingers with his hand; mistaking their movement as a sign of agitation on Charlie's part.

He had been warned (as had Alan) that at some point Charlie would begin to exhibit moments of agitation, confusion and impaired thinking. Don feared that he was witnessing all three at this very minute.

Don unknowingly put pressure on his sibling's fingers which caused Charlie to yelp in pain.

He quickly apologized. He stared intently at Charlie; worried about what could come out of his brother's mouth next.

Charlie accepted the apology, but found his brother's intensity unsettling. He wound up folding his hands in front of him.

"You never fully answered my question," A cautious Charlie addressed his now way too quiet sibling.

Don chocked back a sigh and proceeded with extreme caution.

"Charlie, I honestly do not feel that Cosmos (he purposely left out Ana Vaidya's name) intentionally tried to shade you." He intended to spend no more than five minutes discussing his brother's Cosmos Conspiracy Theory. Don had to get the conversation back on track before Alan came bursting through the door.

"You know this is just another example of his total disregard for my…" Charlie began.

"Look, personally I think as a human being the guy is a total jackass," Don admitted. The unexpected comment earned him back his brother's full attention and a slight smirk.

"But as a cardiac, whatever the hell his full title is, I can tell you that Cosmos is busting his ass for you, Charlie."

After hearing his brother's assessment: Charlie spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the ceiling tiles.

It got to a point where Don could not take it any longer and broke the silence.

"The two of you need to have a totally open discussion and I think it will help this time not to have Dad or I present. Give him all your questions and…"

"I don't want talk about this anymore." A drained Charlie murmured.

Don was not ready to throw in the towel. He had felt progress was being made up until Charlie took over the conversation and drove it off the rails.

"Just hear me out." Don quietly requested of his brother. "If you still do not like what you hear from Cosmos, then your decision stands, and I swear that I'll accept it."

The doubtful expression on his brother's face almost caused Don to smile.

Charlie went into yet another period of deep-thinking.

Don stared at his folded hands and listened as the seconds ticked away.

"He had better have some damn good answers." Charlie stated in a near whisper.

Don kept himself in place when what he really wanted to do was make a run for the door. The last thing he wanted to do was give his brother the impression that he believed the war had been won. "You'll be the one to judge that Charlie. I'm going to go find him." He slowly made his way to the door.

As soon as Don left the room; Charlie took the nasal cannula away from his nose (it was irritating his nasal membranes) and left it dangling around his neck. He was not going to replace his nose hardware until he was made to do so.

Charlie grabbed a fistful of tissues.

It felt like he was coughing up a lung. In retrospect, given everything that was going wrong with him; that very well could be happening.

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Alan Eppes (deep in conversation with Andrew Cosmos) brushed past the doctor the moment he saw Don.

Andrew Cosmos turned and looked expectantly at the approaching Don Eppes. The man was unreadable as usual.

Isabella reappeared after tracking down Akan, the MIA respiratory therapist. She told the harried staff member in no uncertain terms that he had a patient in need of treatment.

Isabella caught sight of Don Eppes and could not help but join both Alan Eppes and Andrew Cosmos.

"Donnie?" Alan quickly questioned his eldest son.

"Charlie has some new concerns." Don announced to the two waiting men. He looked directly at Andrew Cosmos. "He wants to talk to you."

"New concerns?" Alan repeated slowly. "What does that mean?" He looked at Don for clarification. "Does that mean nothing has changed?" His last sentence came out as a mere whisper.

Isabella placed a hand on the Alan Eppes' elbow. Charlie's father has been riding an emotional roller coaster for almost a week and she worried that the stress was getting to be too much for the man.

"Can you give me some specifics before I…" Andrew began.

"Isabella can you see that my dad gets a juice or some water?" Don requested. To his father he said, "Dad, I need to speak with Charlie's doctor. I'll be right back."

Before Alan had a chance to question the mini conference Don (with a set look on his face) none to politely hustled the taller Andrew Cosmos to a far corner.

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"Can you give me some specifics before I go in and speak with your brother." Andrew pulled his elbow free from the younger man's still firm hold.

"He's afraid of being overrun by thoughts while sedated." Don replied. He quickly held up a hand. "I know you discussed how that was not a possibility. I told him that." Don volunteered. "But Charlie's concerned because his thoughts go 24/7."

"I could see how that would make his intellectual capabilities, both a gift and a curse." Andrew stated.

Don shot the doctor a look that told the man "Subject closed. Move on."

"I will address this concern with Charlie directly." Andrew volunteered. "Is there anything else"

"Charlie went off on a tangent about how he was sure that you tried to shade him. I managed to get the conversation…"

"Shade?" Andrew repeated to himself.

Alan Eppes moved two seats.

"When Charlie went on that fact-finding mission, he also uncovered a study that discussed the risks of hallucinations and delusions with ICU patients who are deeply sedated. He never said so, but I think the subject matter freaked him out so much he just blocked it out during the initial discussion."

"He specifically alluded to a study on hallucinations and delusions in an ICU setting. Interesting." Andrew stated.

Don did not know what to make of the doctor's statement.

"Charlie started going on about how he felt that you purposely kept this information from him." Don paused before asking his next question. "Would this conspiracy tangent he went on... was it an example of impaired thinking because I have to tell you while the topic came out of left field; Charlie was making complete sense."

"First, let me state categorically that I never omit pertinent facts to any of my patients." Andrew replied strongly. "No, I would not consider it an example of impaired thinking." Andrew placed his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "Your brother's hypothesis was not that far off base."

Don's head snapped up.

"What the hell does that mean?" He demanded.

"It means. Did I know about the study? Yes. Was there any reason for me to discuss it with Charlie? No." Andrew said cautiously. "There was no reason for me to needlessly frighten my patient with information derived from a study that had no bearing whatsoever on Charlie or his treatment. There is nothing in the study that pertains to Charlie. He was going to be sedated for a total of five days; the subjects in that study were ICU patients who had spent several weeks heavily sedated."

Andrew took it as a good sign that the younger man's hands had remained by his side. He went on.

"In all honesty, the only reason why we are having this discussion is due to your brother's unwarranted need to gather information: a move, I might add, that only served to heighten and feed his fear."

Don instantly went on the defensive (old habits die hard).

"To Charlie there is no such thing as too much information." He informed the doctor. "You want to throw it back on him. Fine, that's your prerogative. I'm not going to waste my time arguing the point with you. Let's you and I instead deal with the fact that Charlie is now convinced that he could experience hallucinations which is still the deal breaker."

"I promise you that I will get Charlie to understand that this is an unnecessary fear for him to have." Andrew replied. "I will even take the heat for not introducing the topic of hallucinations during our initial discussion.

Andrew ignored the "how big of you" expression on Don Eppe's face.

"FYI," Don volunteered. "Do not use the phrase "unwarranted need to gather information" at any time during your discussion with my brother."

He decided he owed Andrew Cosmos that one piece of advice seeing how the doctor ran interference between Don and his father earlier.

"Already removed from my vocabulary." Andrew remarked. "Have we covered everything?" He had not expected their discussion to be so drawn-out.

Don quickly informed Andrew Cosmos that Charlie was aware of the 48-hour window and the reason why Ana Vaidya wound up getting thrown under the bus.

"Alright. I better go in and see Charlie before Isabella has my head." Andrew said only half-joking.

Isabella had appeared in the doorway of Charlie's room twice already.

Don kept watch on Andrew Cosmos as the doctor made his way back to Charlie's room.

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Andrew took a moment to gather his thoughts before he pushed the door open.

Walking into the room Andrew noted one very annoyed looking Charlie Eppes. He opened his mouth to offer an excuse for his late arrival.

"I am beginning to see why my brother called you a jackass." Charlie loudly and clearly announced.

Andrew was convinced as the door behind him slowly slid shut that he heard Don Eppes laughing.

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Isabella headed off Akan who, after finishing up with a difficult patient was making his way to Charlie's room. She steered him toward the break room, where a new supply of donuts and her apology for taking her frustration out on him earlier awaited.

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"Don what the hell is going on?" Alan implored.

"I managed to get Charlie to agree to listen to Cosmos go over the ECMO details." Don replied. "Plus, he is going to discuss with Cosmos some other issues that Charlie said factored into his decision."

Alan knew it would be a total waste of time for him to ask his son what those concerns were because judging from his son's body language when Don was speaking with Andrew Cosmos: it had to be an issue that the cardiologist had some kind of hand in creating.

Another troubling thought hit Alan.

"If this was an agreement reached between you and Charlie then what was the selling point?" Alan inquired even though he already knew the answer.

"I told Charlie that if he found after listening to Cosmos again; he still did not want to go through with the ECMO; I would not fight him on it anymore." Don stated seriously.

"Thank you for getting him to agree to listen again, but if he still refuses; I will use everything in my parental arsenal to get him to go on that damn machine." Alan replied truthfully.

Don ran a hand through his hair.

"Dad, you were the one who lectured me on honoring Charlie's choices."

"I made that statement before I had any idea how bad his situation could become." Alan declared. "When you become a parent Don then and only then will you understand how difficult it is to stop fighting for your kid."

After almost thirty minutes, Andrew Cosmos emerged from Charlie's room, the doctor saw the two Eppes men in deep conversation and headed in their direction.

Don was the first to spot Cosmos. The doctor had a fixed expression on his face, making it impossible for Don to get a take on the outcome of the conversation.

Every nerve ending in Don's body went on high alert.

Having expected a blow back, Alan turned around to see what/who had claimed his son's attention. Andrew Cosmos was headed in their direction like a heat seeking missile.

Alan became completely paralyzed with fear. It was the second time in a week.

Don placed an arm around the older man's back.

At that moment; Don was not certain who was holding whom up.

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"Charlie gave his consent," Andrew Cosmos announced. In a rare display of emotions; he pulled a stunned Alan Eppes in for a quick one-armed hug.

Even in his rare emotional state: Andrew knew it would not be in his best interest to repeat the action on Don Eppes.

Instead, he gave the younger man's shoulder a quick, tentative squeeze and thanked him for all his effort.

An overcome Alan Eppes wrapped his eldest son in a tight bear hug. He whispered in Don's ear, "thank you, thank you, thank you."

Don watched as the staff member he recognized as a Charlie's respiratory therapist go into his brother's room with his wheeled cart of supplies and his usual smile. In what felt like a blink of an eye; the man backed out of the room.

Don stepped away from an ongoing conversation between his father and the cardiologist. He caught up with the respiratory therapist.

"Akan, Right?" Don addressed the staff member. He hoped he had guessed correctly. There were so many staff members attached to Charlie's case, and a new face seemed to be added daily.

"Charlie's older brother, Don." Akan answered with a tight smile. "How can I help you?" He was always wary whenever a family member approached him in the hallways: never knowing if he was going to be praised or berated.

"Charlie gave me the impression that he was waiting for a respiratory treatment. He sounded like he could really use one. So, I'm wondering why you're not in his room working with him." Don had somehow actually managed to sound non-threatening.

"Isabella said to give him five minutes. I am going to grab a quick coffee and then head back in." Akan answered. He then did something he rarely did: he offered an opinion. "Your brother, he's a really good guy." Akan gave the man a much warmer smile before making his way toward the break room.

"Yes, he is." Don said to the retreating figure. The man's comment left Don fighting back tears.

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Don walked back to Charlie's room. He pushed the door open slowly. He stopped in the doorway when it became evident why Akan had backed out of the room.

One of the bed rails was down. Isabella was seated awkwardly (half on/half off) on the side of the bed. Isabella had Charlie wrapped up in a hug.

Don heard Isabella, tell Charlie that he was never going to be alone.

He knew she was referring his brother’s time on the ECMO machine.

Don strained to hear Charlie's muffled reply. His brother said: "Like I'm even going to know." 

And then Charlie broke down and started to cry.

Don watched as Isabella tightened her hold.

Isabella heard sounds from the hallway filtering into the room, she noted a frozen Don Eppes in the doorway. Isabella mouthed the word "no." Letting the young man know that his presence in the room at that moment would not be in his brother's best interest.

Don, feeling like he had just been gutted, nodded his head in understanding and slowly backed out of the doorway.

In the hallway; he rested his forehead against the closed door.

He had won the battle, but at what cost?


	24. Chapter 24

Don stepped back from the door when Isabella appeared in the doorway.

Isabella came face to face with yet another Eppes man in pain.

She had thrown caution to the wind and provided a frightened Charlie with a hug. It was too late to backtrack seeing how (against her own better judgement) Isabella had formed an emotional connection with the personable professor. If Charlie did not make it home; Isabella was going to be in for a world of hurt.

Now, here was Don Eppes looking back at her with the same imploring brown eyes.

Another hug was out of the question; first Isabella did not think her heart could take it and second there were just too many co-workers (a majority of whom would sell their mother to get points from the powers-that-be) buzzing about.

She offered the hurting man a warm smile and in return Don Eppes gave her a "Please, let me back in" expression.

Isabella knew that she was looking into the face of a man who would be devastated if his brother lost his race against time.

Fearing that Charlie's intuitive older brother would be able to pick up on what she was feeling; Isabella moved a couple inches away from Don Eppes and proceeded to scan the hallway. She spotted Akan and waved him admittance into the room.

She moved out of Akan's way in order to clear room for him in the doorway.

"Isabella," Don quietly addressed the nurse. "When will I be able to speak with Charlie again?"

Alan joined his eldest son.

Isabella moved over to the door as if guarding it.

Don took the nurses' purposeful stance as a sign that he was not going to gain re-admittance any time soon.

"After receiving respiratory therapy Charlie is going to be scheduled for an echocardiogram, an electrocardiogram, an ultrasound scan, and a CT scan all in preparation for the ECMO. The process is going infringe of the remainder of the morning." Andrew Cosmos stated.

Isabella had never been happier to see Andrew Cosmos.

"An hour?" Alan inquired hopefully.

"Alan, we could possibly get everything done in an hour and a half; if all goes accordingly." Andrew said carefully. "It might be best for you both to go to the cafeteria and have an early…"

"No," Don quickly interrupted. He was not going anywhere without first having the opportunity to clear the air with Charlie.

"Let's move our conversation away from the door; staff members and equipment are going to be coming and going from the room." Andrew Cosmos attempted to shepherd the two reluctant men back to the waiting area. However, he only managed to move Alan and Don to the other side of the hallway.

Isabella, at this point, had excused herself and returned to the nurses' station.

"We can talk right here," Alan announced. He watched his impatient eldest son shoot yet another furtive glance toward the door to his brother's room.

Alan, could tell by the set look on his son's face, that Don had formulated a plan and was simply waiting to put it into action.

When the topic of discussion changed to whether Alan and Don would be more comfortable waiting in the family lounge; Akan (and his cart of supplies) emerged from Charlie's room.

In a blur of motion, Don blew past the surprised therapist; and shut the door to Charlie’s room behind him.

"What the hell?" A shocked Andrew Cosmos stammered.

"You should have seen that one coming." Alan helpfully pointed out.

Andrew Cosmos started to move across the hallway.

"Don't." Alan warned.

"Fine!," Andrew Cosmos angrily announced. "I will give them ten minutes and then I am instructing the most no-nonsense staff member I can find to escort Don out. If you need to speak to me, I will be at the nurses' station ordering the necessary testing for your son."

Alan did not acknowledge the doctor's retreat. He had seen enough of Andrew Cosmos for the time being.

He made his way back to the waiting area and slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs that he had come to despise. Alan planned on giving Don and Charlie some time alone, however, he fully intended on joining his two sons long before Cosmos sent in his backup.

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Charlie heard the noises from outside roll into his room like a wave and then begin to recede. It was how he always knew that someone had slipped into his room whenever he was attempting to construct a precise timeline that illustrated the chain of events that led him to this point in time.

He was instantly relieved to see that the person at the foot of his bed was not wearing scrubs or a white lab coat.

"You okay?" A concerned Charlie inquired. His brother looked beat: like his spirit was being crushed.

Charlie hated being the weight that was bearing down on everyone that he loved and cared about.

He could sense by the end of their phone conversation that Amita was talking to him through tears and poor Larry, despite a valiant try, had sounded heartbroken when Charlie called "time" on what was proving to be a lengthy conversation.

Granted, Meghan, David and Colby still joked around, but Charlie noticed over the last 36 hours that he seemed to be the only one still laughing.

All these collective painful moments left Charlie wrapped in layers of guilt.

"I'm okay, Charlie," Don answered way too quickly to ever be convincing. He was not at all surprised by the fact that after all the truly hurtful words he had slung at his brother that Charlie was worried about his well-being. Charlie's over concern for his welfare used to frustrate the hell out of Don; now it made swallowing the football sized lump that had formed in his throat a painful feat.

"Liar" Charlie quipped. "You look like hell." A small smile accompanied his off-the-cuff remark. "Return the favor,” he silently willed his sibling.

Yeah, well you're not exactly in the running for LA's Sexiest Professor." Don jokingly replied. He watched his brother’s face light up. 

"Please, If I wanted it, I could win it like that." Charlie snapped his fingers. "No problem."

The brothers looked at each other and smiled. Any reason now to smile was celebrated.

"So," Don began. He was a mixture of seriousness and nerves. Don shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"So?" Charlie parroted. He hid his disappoint that the feel-good moment had not lasted longer.

"I was wondering if you needed some company. Someone to sit with you until they start…"

"Poking and prodding me again?" Charlie finished his brother's question. He patted the side of the bed where Isabella had recently been "Sure, take a side."

Don did not need to be asked twice. He perched on the side of the bed and propped a foot on a chair for extra leverage.

Charlie slide over to be closer to his brother.

"Charlie." Don announced strongly. "I need to apologize to you for…"

"Your earlier tough love FBI approved verbal beat down." Charlie filled in the blank. He saw his older brother drop his head. "I'm not going to lie a lot of what you said really hurt."

Charlie threw up a hand when Don went to speak "I understand why you said what you said and honestly, I would have done exactly what you did."

"It wasn't my place to come in here to push for what…"

"I thought I would have at least another week before having to make major decisions. The 48-hour window changed my perspective." Charlie continued. "Please stop feeling like you talked me into something. I panicked when reality hit. It was a lot to process… I had already filed ECMO under "never going to need it."

"If I could trade…" Don started.

"You know what I would not trade?" Charlie jumped on and squashed his brother's words. "The voices in my head for the voices in your head."

"I'd never make that trade. You've always told me that they are annoying as hell."

"Yeah, well, annoying is a hell of a lot better than all-out scary."

"I can't argue that point." Don agreed good naturedly.

"So, then argue this one." Charlie all but launched himself at his brother and wrapped him in a hug.

Don, did not feel the need to argue; instead he hugged his brother back tightly.

Neither man had noticed that Alan had entered the room until the eldest Eppes swooped in and captured both in an all-encompassing bear-like hug.

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Isabella, quick on Alan's heels, arrived in the room to witness Alan Eppes' hanging on tight to both Don and Charlie. She prepared herself for the emotional outpouring.

"Hey, I'm trying to breath here." Don stated in a muffled tone.

"I'm tapping out, Dad." Charlie said as he tapped his father's arm.

"Too bad and Tough." Alan answered each complaint. "We're staying like this until someone comes in and pulls us apart.

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Isabella pulled the door shut behind her. She bumped into a waiting Andrew Cosmos.

"I'm giving them another minute." Isabella announced.

"That is not your call to make." Andrew snapped and pushed open the door.

"Seriously, Dad, I think I'm going to pass out." Don announced.

"You're ignoring the universal tap out signal, Dad." Charlie protested. He tapped his father's arm again.

"Too bad for the both of you." Alan replied. "I'm not moving even if it means one of you passes out and the other reports me to the WWE."

Charlie snorted out a laugh.

Don uncharacteristically giggled.

Alan tightened his hold, which created even more groans. He batted back tears and kissed the tops of each of his grown son's heads.

Andrew slowly backed out of the room.

Once out in the hallway; Andrew ignored Isabella's raised eyebrow.

"Two minutes." The cardiologist declared. "I want to get the testing underway."

"You're a good guy Dr. Cosmos." A smiling Isabella addressed her long-time colleague.

Andrew held up two fingers as he made his way toward the vending machine adjacent to the waiting area.

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Don and Alan had been ushered back to the waiting area while Charlie underwent the echocardiogram (which they were told would take 15 to 20 minutes). However, Charlie was also slated for an electrocardiogram (which would add another 10 to 15 minutes to their wait time). After a short break a CT scan would follow (an additional 10 minutes). The ultrasound they were told would take between 30 and 45 minutes.

Alan and Don were looking at a potential hour and a half waiting period; seeing how they had come to learn that schedules in hospitals were written in the sand; the wait could stretch to actually two and a half hours.

Don had miraculously managed to get his father up and walking which led them to a small food court area where they purchased two coffees and donuts.

He suggested that they take the coffee and donuts to go, but Alan surprisingly suggested that they sit down and keep each other company.

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Alan and Don exited the elevator on ICC floor. They had just rounded the corner that would lead them straight to the nurses' station.

Alan noted Isabella seated behind the desk. Concern was written all over her face.

Don's phone vibrated. He looked in the direction of the nurses' station.

Isabella had a landline phone handset held up to her ear.

Don pulled out his phone. He left it in his hand still vibrating.

A frustrated Isabella all but shouted:

"What the hell?"

She started to punch in another number.

Alan knew it would be his phone ringing next.

"Isabella?" A shaky sounding Alan called out.

Isabella replaced the phone. She quickly made her way over to where Don and Alan, stood motionless in the middle of the hallway.

Don continued to grip his now silent phone.

"While waiting for the CT scan; Charlie's heart raced into a persistent ventricular tachycardia. He went into cardiogenic shock."

"Oh my God," Alan exclaimed.

"Where is…" Don began.

"The Cath Lab. Dr. Cosmos, Dr. Strahan, the ECMO surgeon, and the ECMO team are…"

Don took hold of his father's hand and the two men half walked/half ran down the hallway.

Isabella picked up the cell phone that had slipped from a stunned Don Eppes' hand.

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The sheer amount of medical equipment that now filled Charlie's latest room caused Alan and Don to stop in their tracks. There were banks upon banks of monitors; several shelving units and carts that contained even more ominous looking equipment.

On one cart, Alan spotted a device that almost looked like it was spinning a CD and then realization hit the stunned man and Alan looked away.

Don worried about having to weave his way around all the thin tubing that seemed to be going in every direction in an attempt to get closer to Charlie. There were also several IV poles and pumps that stood behind and to the right and left of the bed like silent metallic sentries.

Don braced himself before he looked in his brother's direction. He drew in a sharp breath. It was as bad as Don remembered; correction it was far worse; because this was not a wounded fellow agent; the still body on the bed belonged to his brother.

There was a large tube (bright red in color) running out from under a thin white blanket (it's starting point Don did not even want to think about). He was relieved that the suturing site was not visible; Don was finding it hard enough dealing with all the suturing sites that were visible. The taped tubing ran the length of Charlie's arm (that rested on the pillow). It traveled up to a spot just below the main artery in his brother's neck; where it had been sutured in place, taped, and covered with a wide width of white bandages. There were other tubes of various widths joining the largest tube underneath the bandages.

As if seeing all the tubing, sutures, and bandages were not enough to make his stomach roll; Don noted that Charlie was now on a ventilator. There was a white adhesive strip running cheek to cheek, holding the breathing device and its lines in place.

Don blocked his father's viewpoint for as long as he could. When he felt his father put a hand on the small of his back; Don reluctantly moved away from the bed in order to allow Alan to take his place and gain access to Charlie.

"Oh Charlie," the older man sadly noted. Alan white knuckled the bed rail. He now understood why Charlie had been so afraid. He scanned his deathly-still son from head to toe. "Oh Charlie," Alan repeated his mantra.

Don, had no words to offer to ease his father's pain, he threw an arm around Alan's rounded shoulders and pulled him close.


	25. Chapter 25

There was so much medical equipment in the room that Alan and Don at first failed to notice the young scrubbed attired woman seated behind the multiple monitors and equipment laden carts. 

To Don the woman looked all of twenty. 

An anxious look flashed across Alan’s face when he too observed the staff member. 

“Looks can be deceiving.” Don whispered to his father.

“I sure as hell hope so.” Alan answered in a not so low voice

The woman, trained to pinpoint the lowest whisper of a sound, smiled as she continued monitoring the ECMO system. 

There seemed to be yards of crimson hued tubing. Don tried like hell not to dwell on the fact that the tubing was actually a neutral color and that its current red tint was due to Charlie’s circulating blood. 

Alan wanted to look past all the medical devices and simply focus on his son. It just was not possible. 

He wound up gripping the raised bedrail with both hands for added support. 

“We are a little tight for room.” Jada Keaton said to the two drawn looking men. She remained seated in front of the monitors to give them some needed space. 

Jada watched as Alan Eppes (Dr. Carson had described to her Charlie’s family members to a “T”) carefully leaned over the bed rail and kissed his son’s forehead. 

Jada wished that it were possible to give the two men private time with their loved one, but her role prohibited that from happening: she was required to be at Charlie’s bedside. Due to the sensitive nature of the ECMO device Jada could only be relieved by an equally trained staff member. 

She overheard Don Eppes (who Jada could not help but notice sported a close cropped hairstyle as opposed to his wild maned sibling) address her newest assignment. 

“Charlie, Dad and I are here. You are not alone, buddy.” Don said as his eyes scanned every inch (minus what the ventilation device covered) of his brother’s expressionless face.

Despite being informed that it could not happen, Don hoped that he might see some sort of a reaction; no matter how faint. 

Charlie, however, remained unresponsive and motionless. 

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The lowest career moments for Jada occurred when she supervised a critically ill patient who unfortunately never received a single visitor: not a family member, friend, or well-meaning co-worker. 

The ICU nurse was grateful that it appeared that Charlie Eppes had two loving and supportive family members. 

Jada felt a pair of eyes on her and looked past the monitors and saw that Alan Eppes was headed in her direction. She stood up and braced herself for whatever might be coming her way. It was not unusual for her to bear the brunt of a family member’s fear and anger.

Alan stopped in front of the tall, dark-haired, staff member and offered his hand.

“Alan Eppes,” he firmly stated. “Charlie’s father.”

“Jada Keaton,” the specialist replied as she took Alan’s hand in hers and gently shook it. “Charlie’s ICU nurse/ECMO Specialist.”

He looked over his shoulders and noted Don conducting a one-sided conversation. A saddened Alan refocused on Jada. 

The fear Alan Eppes was valiantly trying to keep contained was all too evident in the older man’s eyes.

“Is my son in any pain?” Alan inquired in a lower tone. 

“No Sir,” Jada quickly replied. 

“Is there any chance that he could possibly be at some point?” 

“No Sir,” Jada responded.

“Please, sir, is not necessary. Alan is fine.” He attempted to smile but was not sure he had been all that successful. 

“I will take exceptional care of your son Mr. Eppes.” Jada stated. She wanted to tell the worn-out looking man to please make use of the family room and rest for an hour or so, however, she highly doubted that Alan Eppes would even consider the suggestion.

“I hope my questions did not offend you in any way, Ms. Keaton. I just needed to hear your answers.” Alan responded earnestly. 

“I understand Mr. Eppes. Believe me, you are not the first parent who felt the need to ask me those two questions.” Jade replied honestly. “And please, call me Jada.”

Alan nodded his head in silent agreement.

“I met Dr. Carson, the ECMO doctor. She said that along with Andrew Cosmos my son’s core team would also consist of a consultant/primer, an ICU nurse/Specialist (he managed a smile when Jada raised her hand) one assigned to the morning and another at night, a perfusionist, a physiotherapist, and a respiratory therapist (Alan had hoped Akan would remain with Charlie, but the man was not ECMO certified). 

“When you meet the remainder of Charlie’s team, Mr. Eppes, you are going to find that they are all highly skilled and extraordinarily caring individuals and together, we are going to take very good care of your son.” Jada answered with obvious pride. 

“Thank you.” Alan quietly responded. It’s…” He glanced at all the monitors.

“A lot to take in.” Jada said soothingly. “Any doubts or concerns, you may have, please feel free to bring them to me or Dr. Carson or any other member of the treatment team. We are here to help both you and…” She looked over the older man’s shoulder. 

“Don.” Alan replied. “Charlie’s older brother.” 

“Please do not feel that you have to hide behind all this” (Alan waved his hand at the equipment). 

“Thank you, but I prefer to make myself as inconspicuous as possible whenever a family member arrives.” Jada explained. 

She took notice that Don Eppes was heading in her direction. 

“It was nice meeting you Jada.” Alan said. He gave Don’s arm a light touch before he turned and made his way toward the bed. 

Don tracked his father’s movements before turning all his attention on the woman whose presence he noted moments after he had entered the room. 

“Don Eppes.” Don stated formally. “Charlie’s older brother.” He held out his hand.

“Jada Keaton: Charlie’s ICU nurse and ECMO specialist.” Jada answered. She noted how controlled the man’s grip was; it was firm but minus the macho heavy-handedness she at times encountered. 

“Dr. Carson informed my father and I that Charlie will have 24 hours coverage.” Don stated. He took a quick glance back in his father’s direction. 

“Your brother, as I explained to your father, has an exceptional team looking out for him.”

“I’m counting on that.” Don stated as a matter-of-fact. He hoped hearing the nurses’ assessment had helped assuage his father’s rising fears. 

Jada had heard the man standing in front of her labeled as: standoffish and quick-tempered. She was not picking up an aloof vibe. The Don Eppes, standing in front of her appeared to be approachable, willing to listen, and deeply concerned for the well-being of his younger brother and that of his father as well. Jada would have to wait and watch on his supposed quick-temper. 

“If you ever have any questions, please feel free to…”

“I am listed as Decisionmaker on my brother’s Directive.” Don softly revealed only after taking a stealth glance in his father’s direction. 

“I am aware of that fact and so are the other members of your brother’s treatment team.” Jada said, hoping to alleviate at least one of the man’s worries. 

Don reached for his wallet, pulled out a printed card, and handed the item over to Jada. 

Jada took the small card, noted the raised FBI insignia, and placed it in the pocket of her lab coat. 

“My cell phone is constantly on.” Don stressed strongly. 

Jada nodded her head in acknowledgement. 

Alan unexpectantly appeared at Don’s side.

The sudden quiet that settled between the Specialist and his son had Alan instantly wondering what had just transpired between the two. 

“I am staying here for the remainder of the day.” Alan made sure both Jada and Don understood that he was not making a request. 

“Mr. Eppes, (she was not comfortable calling the older man by his given name) this is a private patient care room. You are more than welcome to stay with Charlie. The only time you will be requested to leave is during a shift change, a procedure, or an emergency.”

Don and Alan looked uneasy after Jada uttered the word “emergency.” 

“However, if you feel a need for an extended break or if you plan to spend the night; there is, as I mentioned an adjacent family room that is furnished specifically for that purpose. 

“Dad, I don’t know if sleeping here every night is something you should be considering. You should go home tonight. I’ll stay. Tomorrow we can each start taking a night and…” The thoroughly displeased look that Don received from his father had him going radio silent. 

Jada sensed now would be a good time to sit back down and stay out of the father/son discussion. 

For the time being; Don would let his father have his way. Now, was not the time to get into it with his tightly wound father. 

He already missed Isabella and Rowan; together the two nurses managed to take first-class care of Charlie while also looking look out for Alan. Isabella and Rowan made sure that Alan stayed hydrated and rested despite his father’s protests that he could take care of himself. 

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Within 20 minutes of meeting Jada Keaton; Don and Alan were also introduced to the ECMO Coordinator, Joel Jacobs. The man, who appeared to be a year or two older than Don, gave off no airs of superiority (unlike Andrew Cosmos), came off as very knowledgeable, and took the time to answer all of Alan’s questions. 

Don had several questions of his own, but they all went unspoken. It was like his brain and his heart had declared war on each other. 

Normally, Don did not operate on emotions; that was Charlie’s forte. 

He walked away from a conversation between Joel Jacobs and his father that centered on staying connected with Charlie using positive touch and hand holding. 

Don carefully weaved his way around the monitors and tubing and returned to Charlie’s side. He did not need to hear from yet another virtual stranger (Dr. Carson being the other) on ways in which he could stay connected with his heavily sedated brother. 

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In hour, two; Don took refuge on the artsy type sofa/armchair combo on the far side of the room. It was not far enough, however, to escape the sights and sounds.

The anxiety he felt over his brother’s never-ending stillness was bordering on overwhelming. Before, if Charlie fell asleep; Don heard an occasional snore, a whispered tidbit of whatever was rattling around in his brother’s brain, a sigh here or there, or the slightest movement of an arm or leg (after the balloon removal). 

Now, there was nothing. 

No snores. 

No whispered tidbits. 

No sighing. 

No movement. 

Nothing.

It was as if the very essence that was Charlie had disappeared and every hour that crept by only highlighted the fact of how much Don wanted his lively animated brother back. 

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A small pleasant-faced woman, who Alan figured to be in her mid-forties, walked into the room and introduced herself as Abigay Issa, the dietician clinician, in charge of Charlie’s nutritional intake. 

It took Alan a second or two before he was able to offer Abigay his hand. 

Don offered the woman a small nod. It was that slight motion that told Alan his eldest son wanted no parts of a conversation that in any shape or form was like the one that took place during his mother’s final days (during which Don had all but held Alan up). 

Alan quietly told his upset looking son, “to go for a walk.” He had to reassure Don several times that he would be okay before his son started to move. 

At the door, Don took a long look at his younger brother; never imagining that the simple act of leaving Charlie behind in a room would fill him with so much apprehension.

He wanted to believe that everything was going to go as planned, except Don could not escape the fact that Charlie always preached about variables and how they had to be considered before making a conclusion. 

There were variables that Don just could not/would not consider at this juncture. 

“Go.” Alan said to his rooted son.

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Once on the other side of the door; Don quickly headed for the double doors that took him out of the ICU ward. He needed to escape. 

Moving on autopilot; Don turned left instead of right and discovered an outdoor patio at the end of a lightly traveled hallway. He walked to the far end of the patio and placed several calls and brought everyone who cared about Charlie up-to-speed. Don did his best to reassure every shocked individual he spoke with. He promised Amita, Larry, David, Meghan, and Colby that he would try and get permission for them to come in and sit with Charlie.

He alerted his Director that he would be requesting an emergency family leave. It’s ending point, Don volunteered, would have to remain open for the present time. 

After completing his last call; Don did not return to Charlie’s room; instead he walked over and sat down on a wooden bench. He placed his back against a smooth wall and tried like hell not to feel guilty about not heading back to be with Charlie. 

Don never thought in a million years that Charlie would be facing a life and death situation; Don always assumed with his career and all its inherit risks; he would be the one lying deathly still in a hospital bed. 

He drew into his lungs all the non-hospital filtered air they could hold, raised his chin, and let the sun warm his face. 

It was a picture-perfect California day. A hiking kind of day for Charlie. 

Since moving back; Don had only gone on a handful of hikes with Charlie. He simply did not share Charlie’s enthusiasm for walking from point A to point B and then back to point A (while Charlie pointed out the various types fauna and flora they passed); whereas on a good long run (which Don enjoyed) he never had to fake interest in tree groupings or flower patterns. 

On their last hike together, along a rocky terrain, Don came to a two-part realization; hiking bored the hell out of him (too damn slow) and his brother was part human/part mountain goat. 

Don pushed away from the coolness of the wall and focused on the activity going on in a nearby parking complex; hoping to silence his thoughts. 

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Isabella stood a few feet from the bench. She debated how to get Don Eppes’ attention without causing him any unnecessary alarm. 

Isabella moved so that he would detect her in his peripheral vision. 

Don noticed movement. 

Isabella motioned for him to remain seated. Don theorized that if she wanted him to remain on the bench, then whatever it was she came out to tell him was not based on any kind of emergency that centered around Charlie. Nevertheless, Don’s heart skipped a beat. 

Isabella moved closer, but still gave Don some needed space. 

“Charlie’s numbers are holding.” Isabella said quickly. The apprehension in Don’s eyes all too apparent. “So much for not causing the man undue alarm,” The nurse thought to herself.

“Isabella, will you still be taking care of Charlie?” Don inquired hopefully.

“No,” Isabella answered. Her voice was full of regret. 

Through the lightning fast grapevine, Isabella discovered that she had not been chosen to be part of Charlie’s ECMO Team and that news hit Isabella hard. Upset, Isabella left the floor (for a much-needed break); with the feeling that she had been passed over due to her age (she was the oldest member of the nursing staff on the Cardiac Care floor at fifty-one). 

She headed straight for Charlie’s room. 

“I already miss talking to him,” Don uncharacteristically revealed an actual real-time emotion.

Isabella nodded. She very much missed her across-the-board discussions with Charlie (and his smile); after only having spent a few days in the company of the easy-going young man. Isabella could only imagine the void that Don Eppes must now feel. 

“Your father was concerned that you might not come back.” Isabella revealed. 

Don focused on the parking structure again. 

“The stillness… it’s disconcerting… it’s never been Charlie’s thing.” Don said never taking his eyes off the parking structure. 

“I am not going to sit here and tell you that there will be a point where you will get past all the mechanics and be able to overlook the stillness because that would be a falsehood and I promised Charlie that I would always be forthright.” Isabella volunteered with a sad smile.

“How the hell am I going to make it through four and half more days of this?” Don turned and questioned the woman now seated next to him. 

“One hour at a time.” Isabella answered honestly. “If you can’t do an hour. Do thirty minutes. If you can’t do thirty; do fifteen or ten. We all have our limits, Don. You’re allowed to have your own too.” 

“In math; limits are well-supported predictions.” Don addressed his now folded hands.

“Well then,” Isabella said as she placed a hand on top of Don’s clasped hands. “I predict that you will find a way to be there for Charlie just like you have since his admittance.” 

Isabella glanced at her watch; she had to get back to the unit, track down Andrew Cosmos, give him a good kick in the ass, and then a piece of her mind. 

“I have to go too.” Don said. “I have about an hour’s worth of stories that I need to share with Charlie.” He stood up, smiled at Isabella and offered the woman his hand.

Isabella willingly accepted the younger man’s hand. She might be old (at least in Dr. Cosmo or Dr. Carsons’ eyes) but she was not blind: Don Eppes was one good-looking man.

Upon standing she was somewhat stunned when Don gave her a quick hug (considering how a smirking Charlie once told her that his older brother was the founding member of the anti-hugging movement). 

Isabella also received a heartfelt thank you.

They left the patio together (with Don Eppes standing off to the side as the automated doors opened; allowing Isabella to exit first), walked to a nearby elevator, where Charlie’s brother watched as she entered the elevator. 

Isabella called out a reminder: “One hour” as the elevator doors slide shut.

The nurse was certain that she had heard the young man repeat her directive. 

As the elevator began to rise; Isabella sent out a silent prayer for the Eppes family.


	26. Chapter 26

The rest of morning moved at a snail’s pace. Every minute felt ten times longer. The pace left Don Eppes feeling unproductive and uneasy. 

By three o’clock Don was thinking about how much he missed working and a nanosecond later was awash in guilt for having a moment where he felt sorry for himself. 

Around four o’clock Don, having convinced his father to take some time for himself and enjoy some sun out on the discovered patio, decided he would nail down permission for visits from Larry and Amita. He theorized, that his easily annoyed sibling had to be tired of hearing just his and Alan’s voice. 

Don cautiously leaned over the bed rail. 

“Hey Charlie,” He announced in his patented “all-is-good” tone of voice. His brother’s non-response had Don once again struggling to accept their new reality. 

“I want to run something by you.” Don continued. He shot a quick glance in Jada’s direction. The Specialist appeared to be focused on one specific monitor. Don gave his attention to Charlie. “The team misses you, bro and Larry and Amita. They continually ask about you.” Don cleared his throat. “When Dad comes back in here, I’m going to leave for a couple minutes and track down one of your doctors and try to convince them to let you have more visitors.”

The ventilator delivered another set amount of oxygen and air into his brother’s lungs and the sound reminded Don that it would be close to a week (4 days on ECMO and 1 or 2 days for the recovery period after the weaning process) before he would be able to hear Charlie’s voice again. Don bit down hard on his bottom lip. The pain kept him in the here and now. 

So fearful of dislodging any one of the multiple tubing running from Charlie’s thigh, winding past his fingers, snaking up his brother’s arm, and sutured/bandaged to his neck or bumping the endotracheal and nasogastric tubing of the ventilator, Don had started to gently tug at Charlie’s ear lobe. The sole purpose for the action being the hope that despite all the heavy-duty pain medications Charlie could feel that Don was there. 

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After the extremely long day; Don (having lost a stare down with Alan) was heading home for the night. 

Tonight, he could at least leave St. Vincent’s feeling as if he had managed to accomplish something worthwhile for his brother. It had taken all of Don’s superior skills of persuasion to convince Dr. Vaidya (who stated she would fill in the other team members) that a couple visitors a day would benefit Charlie immensely. 

It was a small victory, but a win that Don sorely needed to achieve. 

While there had never been an official statement; it had been suggested to Alan and Don that it was always wise to limit exposure, which Don and Alan took to mean that only immediate family members should be granted access to Charlie. 

Don pretended to believe, (as his father walked him towards the bank of elevators) that Alan was going to make use of the family lounge at some point during the night. 

Once out of the hospital’s sprawling parking complex; Don turned his SUV in the direction that would take him to his own apartment. He had mail and clothes to collect, plus a refrigerator stocked with deli items well past their sell-by date. 

He decided to spend the night at his place because with his father remaining at St. Vincent’s; the Craftsman would just seem too empty and still. 

Don had faced enough stillness for one day.

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The next morning, Don, Larry and Amita met a slightly rumbled looking Alan at the registration desk and after a very quiet elevator ride; they made their way toward the Cardiac Care floor. 

When the group arrived at the doors leading to the Critical Care Unit; Amita and Larry still appeared ready to spend time with Charlie.

Once they were in the sitting area near Charlie’s room; Alan tried to describe to the pair everything that was going on inside his room. He asked if they wanted to take a few minutes before going in and assured Alan (and Don) that they were ready. 

It had already been decided between the two colleagues that as Charlie’s oldest friend, Larry would go in first. 

Which was a good thing because neither Don nor Alan wanted to push their luck and buck, the two visitors in the room restriction.

Alan escorted Larry into the room. 

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Alan gave Jada a nod of acknowledgment. He did not, as usual, receive one in return.

It was becoming apparent that a communication breakdown had occurred, and that fact was not sitting well with Alan. 

He weaved his way around the equipment and tried to ignore that he was getting better at it with each approach. 

Jada Keaton was always leery of first-time visitors. She was going to keep an eagle eye on the extremely unsure looking man hovering near the door.

An anxious Larry Fleinhardt was beside himself; the discovery of a staff member in the room was not what he had expected. Neither Don nor Alan had mentioned that fact. He had come to believe that his visit with Charlie would be a private one. 

Larry could not make himself move in a forward motion. 

The staff member partially hidden behind rows of space-age looking machinery continued to observe him with steely-eyed determination. 

Alan, unaware of Larry’s dilemma, kissed Charlie’s forehead as he did every time upon entering his room.

“Hey kiddo, “Alan announced with forced brightness. He knew when he whispered, his tongue-in-cheek “I love you more than brisket” goodnight and did not hear Charlie tell him “got it” the moment would be crushing. 

And when Don whispered, his usual “ditto” and did not receive one of his brothers’ heartwarming smiles; it was going to hit Don hard. 

Alan’s eldest had perfected a “tough-as-nails” persona, but when Don dropped his guard; he was all caring and consideration. 

Don and Charlie were more alike than they were different. Alan reached out and lightly touched an area of Charlie’s cheek that was not covered by white adhesive tape. 

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Jada was going to have to pull rank.

Charlie was due for a position change. He was also scheduled for passive/active PT with a therapist; followed by an OT and nutritionist consultant. Also, on tap was a lung suction, chest-x-ray and blood samples. 

Still pacing by the door; Larry tried to collect himself. 

Alan made a motion with his hand for Larry to move toward the bed. 

“Larry’s here Charlie.” 

Larry gingerly made his way toward the bed. 

Jada went on high alert. If the man passed out anywhere near the bed; all hell would break loose.

A concerned Alan gave the pale-faced smaller man a gentle pat on the back as he moved around him in order to create more space. 

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Larry took notice of all the lines, tubes, and bandages. He tried to focus on his friend’s usually expressive face, but simply could not get past the tube protruding from the mouth of the young man he talked to nearly every day for over a decade. 

Larry swallowed hard.

Jada stood up.

Larry backed up and bumped into Alan. Somehow, he managed to make his way back to the door without slamming into any of the carts positioned at the foot of the bed. 

It was only after the smaller man left the room that Jada relaxed. She heard Alan Eppes quietly apologize to Charlie and then follow the path of the fleeing man.

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Even before making it back to the sitting area; Larry was losing his composure. 

“I’m so very, very sorry,” the crushed man stammered. “I found it extremely difficult to conduct my visit in the manner in which I had envisioned.” 

Don stared daggers at the older man. He could not believe that Charlie’s oldest, most trusted friend had just walked out on him. 

The waves of disapproval emitting from a steely-eyed Don Eppes only added to Larry’s misery. 

“I could not seem to put two sentences together… I felt that Charles sensed my unease and… I had to leave.” Larry all but cried. 

Don shot the older man a look of utter disdain. 

It took everything in Larry for him to hold the younger man’s stare. 

The stalemate broke only when Amita cleared her throat. 

Don watched as the woman Charlie adored gave Larry a look of genuine sympathy. 

“He was so very still.” An emotional Larry continued tearfully. “Charles is never… It threw me. I’m sorry.” 

Seeing what was truly happening to his dearest friend had rocked Larry to his core. 

“This awful GCM (Larry waved a hand toward the door) should not happen to anyone, let alone Charles.” He then looked around as if waiting for some magical medical personnel to come and perform a miracle. When no angel of mercy materialized: Larry started to cry. 

Fearing (unnecessarily) that Charlie might somehow overhear his cherished friend’s emotional breakdown; Alan quickly propelled the tearful man down the hallway toward the unit’s entrance/exit doors. 

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An apprehensive Amita tracked the two men until both Larry and Alan vanished behind a closing door. 

“Amita, you don’t have to do this if you don’t think you can handle it.” Don offered the conflicted looking woman an out while hoping that Amita would not take it. 

“No. I want to see Charlie.” Amita stated firmly. 

Don gave her a grateful look. He then led her gently by the elbow and escorted her toward the room. 

When the door opened again; Jada Keaton had been by Charlie’s bedside talking to him. When the specialist noted yet another unfamiliar visitor Jada tried to hide her annoyance. She lightly touched Charlies arm before stepping back into the shadows of the monitors.

The sound of a heavy sigh coming from behind several monitors filled the small room. 

Don turned his focus back on Amita. He watched her eyes grow wide as she surveyed all the equipment. Don became instantly worried that Amita was also going to bail. He fought the impulse to tighten the grip he still held on her elbow.

When Don walked past Jada; the staff member’s look of displeasure was duly-noted. 

Amita made it to the foot of Charlie’s bed before she abruptly stopped moving. 

Don, let go of her arm and moved closer to his brother. If Amita fled; Don was staying. 

“Hey bro,” Don said warmly. 

Amita, managed to make her way to Don’s side. 

There was concern written all over his face. 

“I’m okay.” Amita responded. She swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat and placed two shaky hands on the bed rail. “Charlie,” Amita spoke in her everyday conversational tone. “We’re getting a new Department Chair. It’s a woman. I heard that she is very by-the-book. All the professors with twenty+ years teaching at CalSci are losing their collective tenured minds because it was an external hire.” 

Don slowly backed away and as he walked out of the room, he heard Amita filling Charlie in on all the details she had acquired on the new Department Chair. 

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When Amita emerged from the room almost forty minutes later, Don and Alan immediately stood up.

She headed straight for Alan.

Alan wrapped his arms around and rocked the visibly upset young woman. 

Don, not knowing what else to do, gently patted Amita’s back. 

“This is not right.” Amita cried. She was too upset to form a more logical statement.

Alan pulled back from her. He looked sternly at the still teary-eyed Amita.

“Charlie loves nothing more than to come out on top of a complex problem.” Alan said comfortingly. “He is just going to have to work a hell of a lot harder to beat this one.” 

Amita, wiped her eyes, and nodded.

The trio remained in a small tight circle until Amita announced that she had driven Larry to St. Vincent’s and that she had better go track him down.

Alan reassured her that Larry would be waiting for her in the main lobby. 

“Please tell Larry that I will call him around nine tonight.” Alan stated. 

“And you can tell Larry for me…” Don hotly began. He caught a warning look from his father. It was a look that informed him not to judge Larry seeing how Don had also fled from the room. 

“Could you tell Larry that Dad and I understand how hard this was on him.” Don said sincerely. 

Alan snaked an arm around Don’s shoulders and then pulled him close. 

He did the same thing with Amita. 

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Don rode with Amita in the elevator to the Lobby floor. However, he could not make himself walk out of the elevator. Understanding why Larry did what he did was one thing, but accepting it was going to be a work in progress. 

The elevator doors slid shut and Don hit the illuminated disc that would take him back to the Cardiac Care floor. 

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A promise had been given: Charlie would not be alone. 

Alan headed for his son’s room.


	27. Chapter 27

It was 8:15 p.m., Alan was alone, (Don had reluctantly gone home) the sole occupant in the sitting area across from his son’s room. He had been instructed to leave Charlie’s bedside when an alarm suddenly sounded. Within minutes (though it seemed like hours), a staff member informed Alan that Charlie was fine, that the alarm going off was due to a mechanical error. However, even after knowing for the last five minutes that the piercing sound that had filled the room had been a false alarm; Alan was still shaking. 

He had been told that he could come back into the room, but Alan needed a few more minutes to pull himself together. After the staff member left; Alan slumped forward in his chair and placed his head in his cold hands.

Alan was mentally drained. His body ached from a combination of sitting and standing too long. He could not recall if he checked his phone for messages. Was it Monday or Tuesday?” 

“Alan?”

For one confused moment Alan Eppes assumed Don had come back to make sure he was in fact making use of the family room. He looked up and followed the voice. 

The eyes staring intently back at him were the wrong hue. 

Larry Fleinhardt nervously settled into the seat next to Alan. A tissue he had removed from a nearby tissue box was now balled up in his hand. 

“Larry!” A surprised Alan remarked. He was extremely thankful that Don was nowhere near their general vicinity. “I told…”

“Amita relayed your message.” Larry squeezed the tissue even tighter in his hand. “After returning home, I sat for a long time in my kitchen and tried to justify my earlier reaction.” 

Larry, filled with inner turmoil, had also tried to not think about how much his unexpected “retreat” had hurt both Alan and Don. Unfortunately, it did not work. 

“Can we discuss this at another…” Alan started to suggest. He simply did not have it in him to offer up comfort. In all honesty, Alan was not sure he would have even if he could have. 

“The sole justification; the one that allowed me to come back to speak with you,” Larry went on unabated. “Was profound fear… a weight bearing sense of fear… it was… Seeing Charlie today it… I was… I am… so fearful that…” 

“This period on ECMO will provide time.” Alan hotly interjected. 

Alan had issued the words so forcibly that a young couple about to come into the small area; did an abrupt about face and walked out. 

Larry stared at his folded hands. He knew some of the anger the fed Alan’s outburst was due to his horrible error in judgment. 

He knew that Larry was remorseful, but did that mean he deserved more time with Charlie? This morning; he had expected so much more from his son’s oldest friend. 

Alan measured his words very carefully when he spoke again. 

“Larry, please know that I appreciate that you came back to speak with me, but if we are being honest, then I need to tell you that you're leaving this morning deeply hurt both Don and I.”

Alan saw the smaller man flinch as if he had been physically struck. He carried on, nonetheless. 

“I know that your reaction this morning was not a true reflection on how you feel about my son.” Alan watched as Larry nodded his head in agreement. “Your admiration and affection for Charlie has always been unwavering for as long as I have known you and…” 

Larry felt the weight of Alan’s compliment. 

“My actions were inexcusable.” Larry lamented. “I cannot apologize enough.” 

“It was unbelievably hard for me the first time I walked into his room too.” Alan volunteered. 

It served no real purpose other than to hurt Larry for Alan to point out that despite his own initial shock he had not fled Charlie’s room. 

Alan knew that he would accept Larry’s apology if only to save the man from drowning in self-loathing.

“Larry, I accept your apology.” Alan suggested to a relieved looking Larry Fleinhardt. 

“Thank you, Alan.” Larry said earnestly. “Should I call Don or speak to him face…”

“Let me speak with Don before you attempt any type of overture.” Alan quickly interrupted. 

“I just don’t want too much time to pass and leave Don thinking that…”

“Larry, please listen to me.” Alan again jumped in. “Let me smooth things over with Don first. Okay.” 

Larry nodded his head in agreement. 

Alan inwardly sighed in relief.

He did not have the heart to tell Larry just how much anger his son still carried. Asking and receiving forgiveness from Don was not going to be as pain-free for Larry. 

“I made a terrible mistake and I have no one to blame but myself.” Larry quietly stated. 

Alan, without realizing it, nodded his head in agreement.

Larry had felt the repercussions almost immediately: Amita had been quite cool toward him on their ride from St. Vincent’s. Thankfully though by the time they arrived at Larry’s home, she had finally accepted his apology. 

“It’s going to be okay Larry.” Alan commented. 

The extremely sensitive man seated beside him did not look convinced of that fact.

Alan, for his own sake, needed to change the touchy subject. 

“I found the Specialist on the night shift a little more flexible than Jada, the Specialist who cares for Charlie in the morning. Right now, there is an associate of Dr. Wallace, the vascular surgeon, in his room checking Charlie’s arms and legs for blood flow.” Alan reported. “Once he leaves; I’ll see if I can convince Thomas to let you in to see Charlie for a brief visit.” 

Larry smiled for the first time in hours. 

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It was not easy, but Alan managed to convince the staff member how important mentally it was for Larry to see Charlie. He told Larry he had brokered a ten-minute visit. 

Larry Fleinhardt made the most of every one of those minutes.

He apologized to his dearest friend and explained how the news of Charlie’s illness had thrown the entire Math Department and related how faculty members across the CalSci campus were all keeping him in their thoughts.

Before leaving Larry, a small statured man, leaned in to get as close as he could to Charlie (fearing all the while of creating a medical disaster) and with emotions barely in check said in a wavering voice, “The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it.” 

And when the car service dropped him back home; Larry could finally look at himself in the mirror that hung in his foyer without flinching.

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Meghan had been awake for hours when she walked on to the unit floor. She held in her hands two cups of takeout coffee. She found Don right where he said he would be seated in a small waiting area (featuring furniture that Meghan surmised was designed to give the room a homelike feel). 

To the untrained eye: Don appeared to be reading the Time magazine in his hands.

Meghan, however, knew better.

“Hey,” She called over to the deep-in-thought man.

Don looked up, when he spotted Meghan, a smile formed on his face. He had smiled so little lately, that it almost felt unnatural. 

“Hey,” He repeated. “You are a godsend.” Don happily accepted one of the still warm cups of coffee.

“That I am,” Meghan replied. In another one of their late-night phone conversations; she had asked (it was more like pleaded) if she could stop by St. Vincent’s on her way in to work in the morning. She had almost cried when Don stated that he had finally received permission for her to visit with Charlie. 

The price of admittance, Don had decreed, was a cup of takeout coffee. It was a rare moment of levity between the two since Charlie’s admittance. 

She lowered herself into the seat next to Don and as stealthily as possible took in his appearance (as requested by both David and Colby). 

Meghan could not remember a time that Don Eppes looked so worn-out (and that was taking into consideration some very stressful cases and never-ending stakeouts). She worried that if Don looked this drained; Meghan could only imagine the toll Charlie’s illness was taking on Alan Eppes. 

“Charlie’s stats are holding.” Don automatically repeated the last status update that he had received. 

“That’s good.” Meghan replied earnestly. She wanted to place her hand on his but knowing Don’s personal boundary issues; Meghan offered the man an encouraging look instead. 

Charlie needs to remain stable for when… if…” Don paused. He instantly corrected himself, “for when a donor match becomes available. It’s hour to hour.” He placed his empty cup on the faux mahogany coffee table.

Meghan threw caution to the wind and took hold of his now free hand and hid her surprise when Don did not automatically pull his hand free The man was a walking/talking textbook example of emotional numbing. 

Only several seconds had passed before Don politely detached himself.

“Hopefully I can get you into see Charlie before things get busy. They tend to schedule everything for him in the morning.” Don reported as he glanced across the hall. Dr. Wallace’s (whose first name escaped Don) appeared in the doorway of Charlie’s room and then turned and walked down the hallway. He had been expecting the doctor to cross the hall and speak with him, which has been the normal routine. 

The man’s unexpected departure threatened to spike Don’s barely manageable anxiety. 

Meghan returned to her seat having disposed of both empty coffee cups in a nearby trashcan. The look of confusion on Don’s tired face was hard to miss. 

“Is something wrong?” Meghan cautiously questioned. 

“I’m not sure.” Don replied honestly. “I picked up a different vibe when I came on the floor this morning and…”

Don never finished his thought. 

Alan Eppes walked into the sitting area. 

“Is everything okay?” An anxious Alan addressed his eldest son. He had showered, shaved, and changed into the clothing items that Don had brought with him from home. 

“Nothing has changed, Dad.” Don quickly answered. The worried undertone highlighted the fact that the alarm going off last night was still very much on Alan’s mind. 

Don was also struggling. He still could not get over the fact that his father had not called him last night and on top of that there was Alan’s remark (after Don had grumbled about Larry’s nocturnal visit) that seeing how Larry was Charlie’s oldest and most trusted friend; Don needed to think long and hard about accepting the man’s apology when it was offered to him. 

It had taken every ounce of patience left in Don not to snipe back at his father that Larry might be his brother’s oldest friend, but most trusted – no. Don was positive that after making such great strides in his relationship with Charlie, he held that honor. 

Meghan sensed a whole inner dialogue going on with Don and stood up with the intention of asking him to go for a short walk (and if she was lucky - talk). 

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Alan took his attention away from his eldest son to acknowledge Meghan with a warm smile and a hug. He had been made aware that she would be stopping on her way into work. 

He felt that it was only fair to let her know that there was a real chance that she might not be able to see Charlie until mid-morning or possibly even much later. 

“Meghan I’m afraid that there is a lot is going on this morning.” Alan stated. “While Charlie already had the daily head to toe evaluation; he is scheduled for a… (Alan racked his brain for a phrase to replace “bed bath” knowing how intensely Charlie guarded his privacy) … he’s getting his hair washed, a shave and oral care. There will also be a check for infections, dressing changes if needed and the changing of his endotracheal tube if it’s deemed necessary.” 

Meghan looked unfazed by the lengthy schedule. Alan reasoned that the strong-minded woman was not going anywhere until she had her visit with Charlie - no matter how long it might take. 

“I wish I could give you an exact time estimate, but even the shortest procedure can turn into a lengthy process due to all of the tubing and catheters. 

“I’m actually not due in to work until after one, Alan.” Meghan replied. She ignored the expression on her boss’s face that told her Don was not happy to find out that she had used some accrued personal time.

Don watched yet another semi-familiar looking staff member entered his brother’s room. A minute or two later, when Jada unexpectantly appeared in the doorway; Don started heading toward the staff member. 

Alan caught by surprise by Don’s sudden movement turned to see what or who had captured his son’s attention. 

Jada, saw the anxiety that her sudden appearance created and attempted to placate both Eppes men by speaking to them as she made her way toward the waiting pair. 

“Charlie is fine.” Jada said soothingly. “Dr. Vaidya and Dr. Carson have scheduled a team meeting to go over his current stats. My relief has arrived, and it was suggested that I escort you to the meeting.”

The hair on the back of Don’s neck stood at attention which was never a good sign.

A look of uncertainty passed between Don and Alan. 

“Dr. Vaidya is scheduled to perform surgery at 10:30, so I can guarantee that you will both be back here long before the scheduled procedures for Charlie this morning are completed. 

By the woman’s demeanor, Meghan concluded, the staff member was holding on to information that she could not to divulge. Meghan had been in the same uncomfortable position more times than she could count. 

She glanced at Don and then Alan and realized that the two men had come to the same conclusion. 

“I will right here.” Meghan said supportively. Hoping against hope that there was nothing she needed to be supportive about. 

Jada looked in Meghan’s direction. 

“Agent Meghan Reeves” Don said by way of introductions. 

“Jada Keaton,” The Specialist offered her hand to the female agent and was not surprised at the firmness of Meghan’s handshake. “Let me inform Jamie, our circulating nurse that Charlie has a visitor.

Don expected the nurse to be visibly annoyed by the appearance of another visitor, but it did not happen. 

Meghan’s proverbial “don’t mess with me” vibe had worked in his favor. 

He had received permission from Dr. Carson for a single visit from each of the five non-family members who Don explained have all in one way or another helped motivate Charlie over the years. 

Jada made her way back across the hallway. She still could not believe that Dr. Carson had caved and granted Don Eppes’ request. 

She was a “toe-the-line” kind of nurse when it came to the safety of her patients, which did not mean that Jada did not understand the reasoning behind the multiple visits. For Don Eppes the visits he helped arrange made him feel “useful” and in his mind they would provide his younger brother with a sense of comfort. Understanding the motivation behind them; however, did not change Jada’s opinion that the visits were collectively a huge risk. 

When Jada heard that the man’s request had received approval; she voiced her disapproval to Dr. Carson personally. He had listened half-heartedly (as most self-absorbed doctors did) and then advised her to stress again to the Eppes family that face masks and hand sanitizers were not to be thought of as foolproof methods when it came to blocking exposure to medically fragile patients. 

Jada did not have to be told that the advice Carson gave her had come from legal.

She pushed the door to Charlie’s room open with more force than was adequately necessary.

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Don, Alan, and Meghan stood in an uncomfortable semi-circle of silence. 

“I would never have come if I even thought I was getting sick or…” Meghan started to explain. 

“Of course not.” Alan replied as he took hold of one of Meghan’s hands. “It’s just so important to keep Charlie stable and they have to be very vigilant.”

“I understand.” Meghan squeezed the older man’s hand.

The three without realizing presented a unified front by standing shoulder to shoulder when Jada returned to the waiting area.

If the wall of solidarity fazed the nurse; it certainly did not show on Jada’s face.

“She’s still getting supplies ready in order to…”

“Give Charlie a shave,” Alan quickly interjected.

“There’s a small amount of time available if you would like to go in.” Jada reported. She then addressed Don and Alan. “Mr. Eppes. Agent Eppes. Please follow me.”

The crispness of the staff member’s tone was not lost to Don, Alan nor Meghan.

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Meghan watched as the silent trio moved down the corridor. She took a deep breath, crossed the hallway, and pushed on the door to Charlie’s room. 

Aware that she was under careful watch Meghan unwrapped a face mask and covered every square inch of flesh on her hands with sanitizer. 

She waited for a nod of acknowledgment and when it was received Meghan cautiously made her way around all the machinery. When she spied the crash cart out of the corner of her eye; Meghan paused for a millisecond before continuing her way to the bedside of her all-time favorite professor.

“Is this okay?” Meghan questioned as she took up a post near Charlie’s bedside. After she received a thumb’s up from the staff member stationed behind a bank of monitors; Meghan attempted to filter out the figure. She had waited a long time to see Charlie and was not about to waste any one of the precious ten minutes that were allotted.

Charlie, who kept his curly mane of hair styled to a degree of perfection that Meghan could never hope to achieve now sported what was a sad mixture of Bedhead and tangles. 

The sight of Charlie’s tangled mop of hair made Meghan more emotional than having come face to confront with the crash cart. She knew how much sporting a head of squashed and knotted hair would have embarrassed the just this side of vain Professor Charles Eppes. 

Whereas, the early morning stubble he sported was an off/on look for the young man. Nine times out of ten the sprouting of facial hair on Charlie signaled that he had just finished working tirelessly on a stalled case for Don. 

The still figure on the bed looked like the young man that Meghan had come to care about, but the essence that made Charlie her favorite Eppes was so markedly missing that it almost broke Meghan’s heart. 

Meghan closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them; the Profiler began to talk.

“Hey there Charlie.” Meghan stated in her usual speaking voice. “Apparently I stepped on some toes getting in here.” She shot a quick look at the staff member and saw no reaction. “Nothing new there. Right.”

Meghan then spent the next nine and half minutes filling Charlie in on all the office comings and goings. 

After some time had passed; Meghan heard the distinct sound of throat clearing and knew it was time for her to leave. 

She blinked back sudden tears. It was not lost on her that this could perhaps be the only time she would be able to spend with Charlie. 

Meghan bent over the bed rail and whispered in the ear of her favorite team member: “Keep fighting Charlie.” She touched an open area on his cheek, straightened, and then backed away from the bed.

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The moment he walked into the large conference room with his father, Don knew that they had been included in the case review meeting for a specific reason. 

Seated around the table was every member of his brother’s ECMO treatment team plus his primary doctors: Wallace, Vaidya, and Cosmos.

Every individual gathered around the conference table had looked up when Dona and Alan entered the room. Each one bore the same “understanding” expression.

Don knew that look. It was the one he put on whenever he had to break bad news to a victim’s family.

He pulled out a chair and hoped like hell that his father did not notice his hands were shaking. 

 

A/N: Reviews welcome.


End file.
